The Doctor is In: Home Remedies
by destyshell
Summary: Summary: Continued from The Doctor is In. This story won't make much sense without having read that one. Major Kink warnings! (Step)Daddy!kink through and through. Mature rating! Sexy times and naughty humor ahead. Thanks for the reviews and favorites! Hope you enjoyed!
1. Chapter 1

The Doctor is In: part two-Home Remedies

**Disclaimer: Joss owns all.**

**Summary: Continued from The Doctor is In. This story won't make much sense without having read that one. Major Kink warnings! (Step)Daddy!kink through and through. Mature rating! Sexy times and naughty humor ahead.**

**Not your cup of tea? Leave the pot for the rest of us. No flames…this is not my day job, but otherwise feel free to reply or shoot me a question. **

**Of course, this is just fantasy—I'm not advocating anything inappropriate in the real world. **

**This fic is already finished, so I'll put up chapters pretty quickly.**

Buffy heard the soft thud of the front door, the clump of the aged leather briefcase, the swish of silk as it was unthreaded through itself, and even the slight pause of feet coming up the stairs when their owner struggled with a too-snug shirt button.

"Buffy?" Spike called out.

"In here, Daddy," Buffy answered back. Her simple words shot a jolt straight to Spike's groin.

Spike stopped short at the open doorway, Buffy standing in front of her old full-length mirror, scrutinizing herself in the white chiffon babydoll nightie that made her look both tempting and forbidden. Spike, his white dress shirt hanging unbuttoned, appeared behind her in the mirror's reflection.

Buffy's step-father nervously crossed the threshold to her childhood room, still frilly and adorned with boy band posters and Mr. Gordo sitting in the middle of the bed. Though trying to remain calm, his heart was thumping a mile a minute, afraid that after Buffy rejoined her classmates at Sunnydale High that day, she might have regretted all they did the night before. Spike swallowed the lump in his throat as he feared that Buffy wished she hadn't boldly stripped down in his exam room, spread her legs wide, and begged him to make her come. He hoped against hope that in the harsh light of day, Buffy hadn't felt that making love with him last night had been a mistake. If she did, he didn't think he would survive it.

"I thought you were going to move your things in my room this afternoon, sweetheart," Spike asked tentatively.

"I was…," Buffy responded absently. "I am," she corrected, looking around to reassure, studying Spike's searching face. "I was just deciding which clothes to move to your dresser when I came across this," she indicated the sheer lingerie as she twisted around, trying to assess her appearance in the delicate garment.

"It's very beautiful, love," Spike admired, wrapping his arms around Buffy as they both faced the mirror. He kissed her cheek tenderly.

"Really?" Buffy asked softly, her forehead still scrunched in self-scrutiny.

Spike smirked, grinding his hips a little into her backside, "What do you think?" he asked rhetorically.

Buffy turned from his grasp, her fingers trailing over Spike's palm as she sighed and placed Mr. Gordo on the bedside table, flopping back onto her bed.

"Why didn't you ever think so before?" Buffy asked plaintively, returning to her room reminding her of every frustrating attempt she'd made to win her step-father's attentions.

Spike lay next to her on the narrow bed, his arm propped on his elbow as he faced her.

"Baby, they would have put me in jail…taken you away…," Spike reminded with an edge of desperation.

"I mean _lately_…no one would have known. I'm nearly eighteen."

Spike's face clouded, "Buffy, I didn't want to take away those choices for you…to have a normal life…." Buffy shook her head silently as her eyes threatened to sheen with tears, but there was no need—understanding finally dawned on her step-father.

"But that didn't matter…it still felt like a rejection, didn't it?"

Buffy nodded, gratified that he finally understood. She blinked back the unshed tears and smiled.

"So, last summer, when I went to the backyard to find you, and I was wearing this," again indicating the nearly see-through lingerie. "What did you really want to do?" Buffy inquired coyly.

Spike grinned, then his eyes flicked to the nightstand and he pointed, "You'll have to turn Mr. Gordo around first… can't stand the thought of him watchin'."

Buffy laughed, turning the stuffed pig to the wall. "Ok."

Spike's eyes grew heavy with lust as he recalled, "You mean that morning I was on that lounger, out by the pool, and the sun was coming up, making this little scrap of cloth nearly invisible? Is that the time you're talkin' bout, pet?"

Buffy grinned, always loving when Spike's accent grew a little crude. "Yeah, it is."

"And then you climbed in, all snuggled up next to me to watch the sunrise?"

Buffy nodded with excited eyes.

"Well, what I really wanted to do was reach over," Spike's fingertips slid to the airy fabric, "and touch you right here," he lightly circled the dusky nipple, a slight shadow under the pale fabric, "till it got all taut and crinkled in my hand." Spike grinned at how her tender flesh seemed to follow his command.

"And then…?" Buffy prodded.

"And then…I would've pulled these fancy strings here," he plucked at one of the satin ribbons, releasing the single tie that held the two sides together. Gently he brushed back one gossamer bit of fabric. "And I would have given this beauty here a proper good morning kiss."

Spike gently circled his lips round the tight, little nip, giving a tiny pull. "And , I couldn't have let this one feel left out," he teased, pulling back the opposite side and offering it the same attentions.

"Yes, that would have been an improvement," Buffy grinned mischievously.

"And what about when I'd come downstairs when you were watching TV, and I'd just be wearing your old undershirt and a pair of panties?" Buffy tempted.

Spike scooted up, his back to the headboard, pulling Buffy onto his lap.

"And you would climb up…," Spike wrapped his arms round Buffy in a snuggle. "And you'd snatch the remote and start flipping channels.

"And I wouldn't stop till I found the sexiest show on," Buffy breathed the memory against his lips.

"Even though I tried to be a good daddy and change the channel…."

"I would hide the remote in the couch cushions, so we would have to watch it," Buffy reminded with a mischievous grin.

"So we would watch for a while, and you would notice something growing hard under your bottom."

Buffy rocked her hips a little against the object in question.

"And as we watched, my hands would start to wander…." Spike's right hand mindlessly toyed with her right nipple, his left dropping to her lap.

Spike drew a slow line up and down the bare nether lips still covered by the white gossamer panties.

"And what about when the actors on the screen looked really convincing, and you'd swear they couldn't be writhing around like that, and grinding their hips together like that, and not be getting off," Buffy whispered in Spike's ear as her lightly-covered body thrust up to meet her step-father's touch.

"Well, first, I'm afraid I'd have to unfasten my trousers, cause I'm sure they'd grown a little too tight," he confessed as he quickly slid the metal tab from its hook, letting the zipper down in relief. "I'd be a little nervous that you'd feel my cock against your bottom," he drawled, reveling in the feel of his bare length rubbing against her barely-concealed cleft.

"Then I'd be tempted to make a little more _direct_ contact," Spike grinned as his fingers slipped inside chiffon, gratified at the feel of bare flesh under his hands. His hand slid between bare, slick nether lips, his knuckles straining against the thin chiffon while the other hand tugged at the pink, pert nipple he'd already uncovered.

"Maybe we ought to get rid of these before they get shredded," Buffy predicted, shrugging out of the lingerie and shimmying out of the tiny panties, Spike's hand stubbornly refusing to leave its prize.

Buffy thought for a minute, enjoying the light but constant attention from Spike's fingers.

"What about that morning in September, when I was getting ready for school, dressed in my cheerleading uniform, but I had lost my bloomers and couldn't find them anywhere," she feigned innocence with wide eyes and shrugged shoulders.

"Well, being the good daddy that I am, I would help you look," Spike replied in mock-earnestness. "The first place I'd try would be the last place I saw them—on your perfect, little bottom," he teased, his hands exploring the round, golden flesh as he pretended to search by touch.

"Hmmm…don't think they're here…," he skimmed his hand over the expanse of skin before exploring between the soft folds, checking very thoroughly for the missing garment.

"Found something here, but I don't think it's your bloomers, pet," Spike toyed with her needy clit as if he were trying to figure out its identity, fighting the broad smile on his face as Buffy giggled on top of him.

"We could look in here—see what we find," Spike declared sincerely, his fingers sliding into her slick pussy. Buffy sighed in pleasure as his fingers searched. "Hmmm….very wet in here…might take a while…," he stroked the needy channel, much to Buffy's glee. "Need a little help in here, I think," he teased as he added another finger, tracing every pillowed wall with a thorough touch. "Really gotta' look all round," he twisted his fingers deep inside, searching fruitlessly for the lost knickers. He heaved a heavy sigh and conceded, "Well, there's only one place really left to look I guess."

Buffy squealed and giggled, rolling off his lap and back onto the mattress, "Oh no, I don't think they could be up there," she shrieked in laughter, Spike looking down quite seriously as he waggled his soaking wet index finger.

"You never know, kitten," he leered, his finger finding the tight rosebud in between those fleshly globes. "They could be anywhere," he grinned, wriggling his finger through the tight ring of muscle. He stroked her tight back passage in thoughtful contemplation, the swollen cock peeking out of his trousers, belying the thoughtful look on his face.

"Those bloomers are mysterious things," Buffy agreed, wide-eyed as she bucked against Spike's finger wiggling in her bottom.

"Huh, maybe best to check everywhere one more time," he declared, slipping between Buffy's legs as he kicked off his loosened pants.

"Mmm," his tongue lapped at her straining clit, while his free fingers dipped back into her slick pussy. "Gotta be thorough," he paused before attacking the search again with fervor, sucking and lapping at her greedy pearl while his fingers fucked both needy passages. In moments, Buffy was bucking and writhing, calling out praises to her daddy for his valiant effort.

She giggled as she caught her breath, a mixture of amusement and relief in her laughter.

Spike had to have the last word though, "Damn bloomers," he grimaced at his lack of luck in finding the elusive garment. "Did you try the dryer, luv?" he questioned, her laughter bouncing off the walls before he broke into a grin.

After Buffy caught her breath and the giggling died away, she held Spike's gaze, her heart still pounding. Even though she'd just had an amazing orgasm, the hunger for her step-father still had not waned. She also wanted to make certain that guilt and remorse had no chance to worm their way into their relationship.

"What about if you came to my bedroom to kiss me goodnight," Buffy questioned breathlessly as her hands traveled down her body, "and just as you got to my doorway, you saw me naked on my bed…my hands between my legs…calling out your name because I needed you so much."

Without a trace of shame, Spike met Buffy's challenge. In spite of all those times when Spike would rush past Buffy's opened door, hearing her frustrated cries in the night, never again would Buffy know an unfulfilled desire or a pang of neediness. Spike rose, sitting on the bed as any concerned father would do, his hand sweeping soft circles on her stomach.

"You needed me, pet?" Spike asked casually, playing along with Buffy's game whilst her fingers remained buried between her thighs.

"Yes, Daddy," Buffy replied, her voice full of need, supplied by those lonesome nights spent in her frilly bed.

"What do you need, luv?"

"I need you to touch me, Daddy," Buffy whined, calling on the frustration she'd experienced so often.

"Where do you need me to touch you, kitten?" Spike's hand stroked lightly up Buffy's torso, his fingertips grazing the outside slope of her breast before sliding back down.

"Lower, Daddy…," Buffy growled softly.

Spike twirled his forefinger in the dip of Buffy's bellybutton.

"Here, pet?" Spike teased.

"No, Daddy…lower," she insisted.

Spike's hand slipped lower, rubbing soothing circles on her abdomen. "Here…? Like when I make your cramps go away?"

"No, Daddy…_lower," _she insisted, her hips bucking up, trying to find purchase.

"Where, babygirl?" Spike questioned again, already knowing full-well the answer. His fingers drew soft spirals further down her belly, reverently skimming the bare mound.

"Between my legs, Daddy," Buffy insisted, her hips bucking up to meet his fingers.

Spike's finger drew a soft line against the seam of her nether lips as Buffy tried to grind against his steady hand.

Taking a deep breath, Spike drew on a memory he'd tried to shove back down to the hidden places in his mind, recalled only when his need became too much.

"You remember last summer when I delivered Mrs. Nickerson's baby boy?"

"Mm-hmm," Buffy nodded, her hips still making little circles against her step-father's hesitant fingers.

Spike smiled as he allowed himself to recall his tiny bout with temptation.

"You had baked a homemade pizza for dinner, but I had to spend all evening at the hospital. When I got home, you had left my dinner warming in the oven and a little note on the table telling me to come up and kiss you good night," Spike reminded, pleased by the blush of recognition on Buffy's cheek.

"So I ate my dinner and took a shower to wash off the stink of the hospital…,"

Buffy scrunched her nose playfully in distaste.

"I put on my robe, turned out all the lights, and then I came in to kiss you good night," Spike recounted as Buffy watched his expression, her head tilted softly against the pillow.

"When I sat down, right here on the bed, you were fretting in your sleep with this pained look on your face," Spike related. "I was afraid you'd eaten too late, waiting up for me, and your tummy was all upset. So I pulled back the sheet, gonna' rub your belly and try to help it settle so you could sleep, but when I did, I found you starkers under the covers."

Buffy smiled mischievously at the memory of flinging away the too-hot pajamas in the night.

"So I tried to cover you back up and sneak on out, but you were havin' none of it…pushing the sheets off in your sleep, you were," Spike's right hand feathered down Buffy's side, leaving little tickles in its wake.

"So I put my hand on your belly anyway," recounting the memory, Spike drew soothing circles on Buffy's flat abdomen as she arched slightly to meet his touch.

"The more I touched you, the more you seemed to relax, My hands started going a little further each time, didn't even really notice it at first," Spike's hands swept wider and wider until his fingers brushed the underside of Buffy's breast. "Wasn't thinking 'bout it, till I felt your nipple hard under my palm," Spike's hand ghosted over the taut rosy peak, the tender flesh straining for more contact.

Buffy's breathing had deepened at Spike's tale, wishing she'd only been feigning sleep that night.

"Tried the other," Spike's hand skimmed to Buffy's right breast, coaxing the nipple into a twin of its mate.

"Wanted to take them into my mouth…explore all that puckered flesh with my tongue…."

"Why didn't you, Daddy?" Buffy asked, the longing for his touch evident in her face…in her body.

"Scared you'd wake up's why not. But you did ask for goodnight kisses, didn't ya?"

"I did," Buffy smiled.

"So, I bent down," Spike replayed the night's events as he spoke, "and gave each jewel a sweet little kiss." Each peck held that hesitation, that restrained desire, revealing just how much it took for Spike to keep from ravishing each breast with his mouth and tongue. He was only troubled by a mild pang of guilt at his actions before retreating from those tempting twin globes…then he noticed where his left hand had gone.

"Then I realized my fingers had traveled further down…not touching your tummy anymore, eh?"

Buffy shook her head with a smile.

"Did it make you hard, like you are now?" Buffy's gazed traveled to Spike's turgid shaft, eager to satisfy her step-father's need but also not wanting to spoil the moment, either.

"Of course, pet—bathrobe couldn't come near coverin' it," Spike grasped his shaft with his right as he just barely breached Buffy's nether lips with his left.

"Just one finger," Spike slowly stroked at the labia till they gave way and his circles grew small, concentrating on the tiny bundle of nerves at the juncture of Buffy's thighs. "Never entered you…didn't bring you off good and proper—couldn't risk waking you up, kitten," Spike reminded. "But just touched you, soft and steady, till this little mewl escaped your lips…you shuddered a little…then just kind of relaxed all over," Buffy did just as Spike predicted, letting the gentle warmth seep into her core.

"Then I figured that one more good night kiss wouldn't hurt," Spike grinned, bending down to the apex of the shadowy seam, softly kissing the tender mound before letting his tongue dart out quickly, briefly tonguing Buffy's tantalized clit.

Buffy giggled at the playful tease as Spike rose again to his spot on the edge of her bed, slowly stroking his hard length absently.

"So…what did you do about _that_?" Buffy nodded with a cocked brow, noting the rigid cock in her step-father's hand.

"My bathrobe was in need of laundering, anyway," Spike smiled as he toyed with the needy flesh, though suddenly surprised to find himself on his back in the frilly bed, his straining shaft now pointed to the ceiling with Buffy's silky lips parting to take him in.

"So, Daddy," there was a wicked look in Buffy's eye as she hovered above him on her narrow mattress, "this time are you just gonna' be happy with a shiver and moan?" she teased with her bottom lip stuck out in a pout.

Spike's smirk suddenly turned to a leer, all hesitancy forgotten as he caught the troublesome lip with his teeth and drove up in one solid thrust of his cock, "No, kitten…this time…we're gonna' tear the walls down…."


	2. Chapter 2

Buffy unlocked the front door at 1630 Revello Drive, depositing her keys and books on the table nearby. She toed off her shoes and socks at the door, balling up her socks and sliding her shoes underneath the table. Then, as had become her habit, she reached beneath her cheerleading skirt, tugging the thickly knit trunks down her thighs, to finally puddle, drenched in a day's worth of her juices, in a maroon wad of fabric, limply circling her ankles.

Picking up her dirty undergarments, Buffy called up the stairs, "I'm going to the backyard to practice, Daddy."

"Be right down, kitten," Spike called from their bedroom, throwing on a pair of athletic shorts, following his shower.

Buffy grinned and tossed her laundry into the washer before striding out into their backyard, now enclosed with a high privacy fence to deter any nosy neighbors.

The blonde cheerleader was practicing a slow back-walkover as her step-father came out the back door.

Spike grew unashamedly hard as Buffy bent back, her skirt rising up to reveal those bare, pink nether-lips hiding beneath. His hand slid across the silky nylon of his shorts as her slick pussy was teasingly revealed, followed by her tight, little rosebud and round, golden bottom. Buffy had taken to sunbathing in the nude, following the recent developments in their relationship. Hell, she'd probably be doing it anyway, even if she hadn't offered up her virginity a few weeks ago, Spike finally unable to resist his step-daughter's advances.

"How did that look?"

"Pretty good, pet. How bout one more and then a nice running pass and finish up with some jumps," Spike suggested, running his hand firmly against his tented shorts, reclining in one of their patio lounge chairs.

"Looks like it was more than just 'pretty good,' Daddy," Buffy teased, smiling at his obvious discomfort.

"You just finish your routine, and I'll help you stretch," Spike coaxed, his voice thick with innuendo. For years, Dr. William Giles had been the good and proper step-parent, loving and attentive, never an improper thought flitting across his brain, solely devoted to bringing up Buffy in the way Joyce would've wanted. Tutoring and enrichment, gymnastics lessons and cheerleading practice, museums, libraries and travel—Spike did all he could to lessen the blow of Buffy losing Joyce at such a young age.

But then, as Buffy began to blossom, as curves developed and natural desires made her needy, Buffy worked hard to glean a _different _sort of attention from Spike. It seemed every day Buffy wore skimpier clothes around the house, scoffing at her step-father's gentle suggestion that she might want to 'change into something else.' She playfully retorted that he 'saw naked women at work all day anyway' and it was 'only the two of them at home, so who's going to see?' He couldn't exactly mark the day when he should have pushed her off his lap when she wanted to cuddle or locked the door to his room to prevent her entrance following a nightmare. How many mornings had he awoken to her tanned legs curled around him, her nightshirt having ridden up past her rounded bottom and her warm, slick nether lips spread across his hipbone?

Finally, she broke him—broke him as he walked into the exam room, her golden flesh bared, whimpering in her frustrating need—the ache for the elusive release that she could not achieve on her own. He could resist her no further, shattering every moral, code and creed that he had ever deigned sacred. His darling girl knew what she wanted—only him, and if he was in for a penny, he was in for a pound, and Spike planned on giving Buffy _exactly_ what she needed.

"I need a good stretch, Daddy," Buffy cooed, the full meaning of their words not lost on the other.

Beginning her run at one end of the fence, Buffy launched herself into the air, perfect backflips alternately revealing her bare mound and bottom as her body arched and flipped in an exacting form—her lack of confining bloomers not distracting her in the least.

"Big finish now, kitten," Spike cheered, his erection peeking out from his loose shorts.

Buffy's double handspring and aerial cartwheel landed her right in front of her attentive step-father.

"Now for my herkie…"Buffy jumped, her right leg parallel to the ground, while her left knee bent in the opposite direction, giving her step-father a quick flash of her spread nether lips and dark channel. All too quickly, her skirt covered the treasure that only Spike had ever seen.

"My hurdler…" Buffy thrust her right leg past the top of her head, while her left bent underneath her bare bottom, also offering Spike an enticing view of her juicy quim.

"And my toe-touch…" Buffy grinned, knowing this move was a particular favorite—her puffy lips spread wide as her pussy was briefly but completely, openly exposed. The salt from her skin mingled with the heady juice, currently running down her thighs.

Spike smiled as he breathed deeply, her scent carried on the gust of wind created by Buffy's sky-high jumps.

Spike grinned as he gave her a few slow, seductive claps. "That was perfect, kitten. Now…didn't you want some help stretching?"

"Oh, yes, Daddy," Buffy kicked her leg up to Spike's shoulder, the stretch straining her muscles more, the closer he moved toward her.

"Gotta' keep those muscles nice and flexible, pet," Spike's hand began massaging at Buffy's calf, kneading the muscles as he made his way to her golden thighs.

"Mmm…feels so good…everything's all tense and tight," Buffy complained, her strained core desperately needing some attention after all the exposure it had received.

"Shh, pet, Daddy will make sure everything's taken care of," Spike smirked as his massaging fingers reached the apex of her thighs, rubbing his thumb between the slick nether lips while providing some needed attention to Buffy's aching nub.

"Oh…yes…so tense right there," Buffy gasped, eager for release.

Spike, however had other ideas.

Withdrawing his fingers from her needy clit, Spike chirped, "Other foot," unceremoniously releasing her right foot from its shoulder perch and urging her left to his opposite shoulder.

"Noooo, Daddy," Buffy groused.

"Now, now, good girls who follow directions will get what they need—stretch first, fun later," Spike playfully chastised, continuing with the same massaging movements, edging ever closer to her nether lips once again.

Satisfied that her hamstrings were sufficiently loosened, he did dip a finger into her sopping but tight channel.

"Looks like everything needs a good stretch, hmmm?" he suggested with a grin.

"It most certainly does," Buffy defended, her eyes closed in pleasure as Spike's finger grazed her g-spot.

"All in good time, pet." Spike withdrew his finger and slid it out, much to Buffy's dismay. "Let's try the scorpion, luv."

Obediently, Buffy kicked up behind her head, grabbing her toes with her hand, her right leg forming a perfect 'O' behind her. Spike moved in close, supporting her standing leg with his body and her raised leg with his shoulder, massaging her straining quad as he inched closer to her exposed, wet pussy. His erection had completely escaped the confines of his silky shorts, the slippery fabric eventually giving way and falling to the patio floor.

Spike didn't seem to mind as his cock grinded against Buffy's puffy, pink lips.

"Daddy, please," Buffy whined as her leg began to shake, Spike moving in ever closer for support. His thumbs drew soothing spirals against her taut groin muscles.

"Daddy's got 'ya," Spike assured, plunging his finger back into Buffy's tight sheathe. "Switch legs, pet," Spike directed, his fingers never ceasing their steady pumping even as Buffy released one leg and lifted the other. Buffy groaned at the stretch of the new muscles, combined with the invading fingers buried deep in her core. Spike couldn't help but grind his hard cock against the exposed valley of her bottom, the slick head nudging at her exposed rosebud.

"Need to get on the mats, Daddy," Buffy breathed out, her legs starting to turn to jelly.

"'Course, kitten," Spike withdrew his fingers and lowered her raised leg, holding her close, so her wobbly legs wouldn't give out.

Buffy's bare bottom hit the mat as she sighed in relief. Dutifully, she spread her legs into the splits, her pussy spread wide for Spike's perusal.

"Beautiful…," Spike appraised, affected both by her lithe grace and her unashamed sexuality. Buffy flattened her body against the mat, turning her step-father's attentions to the view from behind.

Spike knelt behind Buffy, eager to continue his earlier ministrations. Leaning down, Spike gave a long lick from Buffy's hungry channel to the showy star at her back passage. Slipping his fingers underneath, he drew insistent circles to Buffy's unguarded clit, her moans echoing off the cushioned mat.

"More, Daddy, please," Buffy gasped, trying to grind her clit and Spike's fingers further into the mat. Spike slipped two fingers into her heated depths, his thumb teasing at the rosebud beneath.

"Need you…," Buffy cried, hungry to feel Spike's full length buried inside.

"One more good stretch, and I promise," Spike soothed, withdrawing and urging her legs together before moving in front of her again. "Gotta' work those glutes," he softly chided, moving Buffy onto her back and coaxing her toes to each side of her head, her body jackknifed but for Spike spreading her thighs a little wider.

"All nice and juicy, just for Daddy," Spike leered before diving in to feast on full, plump lips, eager little pearl and sweet, tight quim. His fingers stretched Buffy's pillowed walls, tickling at her g-spot as he licked and suckled.

"So good," Buffy choked out, breathing beginning to become an issue. Her legs found  
Spike's shoulders instead, her slick sex rising to meet his attentive mouth. His tongue flicked in long strokes against her hard, needy clit, alternating with his diving fingers between her heated channel and eager apex.

Buffy had endured the long school day and a game afterward, all the while aching for Spike's cock to fill her inside. She had discovered after that fateful visit to his office and the night they shared afterward, that it was the only thing that could fulfill that particular desire.

"Need you inside me," Buffy groaned, bucking against Spike's tongue and fingers.

"Want to be inside you, kitten," Spike lowered her knees from his shoulders, resting her hot, wet pussy on top of his lap. "Let's get you undressed, first," Spike grinned, stripping Buffy of the snug cropped top and fly-away skirt.

"That's it—all nice and naked, just like Daddy," Spike grinned, lowering Buffy down onto his rigid shaft.

For years, Spike had been the model of paternal perfection, never a lascivious thought crossing his mind, but then, when Buffy came of age…when she would practice her gymnastics just in her tiny panties and a tank top…when she would leave the bathroom door unlocked, or her bedroom door ajar (only once allowing himself more than an accidental glimpse)…and finally, when she showed up on his exam table, legs spread and begging him to make her come…well, that's when Spike succumbed to the fantasy. Resistance was more than futile.

"These little beauties haven't seen any attention all afternoon," he teased, grasping a dusky nipple between his lips as Buffy bounced on his lap.

"Nope, not since this morning," Buffy sighed, remembering how, instead of the awful alarm clock, she was awakened by Spike suckling at her breast.

"It just looked so tasty, pet. Couldn't help myself…," Spike feigned a pout, their roles reversing temporarily.

"You can help yourself any time you like," Buffy smiled seductively, rolling her hips as she surged closer to Spike, allowing him to capture her other breast in kind.

"Mmm…I do like…," Spike's lips hummed around Buffy's generously offered nipples as he thrust up over and again into her tight, hot sheathe.

"When did you first think that you might…_like_ them?" Buffy questioned as she rode her step-father's impossibly hard cock.

Over the last few weeks, many questions of this sort had been asked—not to trap…not to blame…but to reassure each of them that they were not alone in their feelings. These confessions were not elicited to bring shame over past desires but, instead, helped make sense of this uncharted territory, this strange combination of erotic and familial worlds they now inhabited.

Spike thought for a minute as he nipped and kissed at Buffy's swaying breasts.

"The first time you wanted to shop at Victoria's Secret…you pickin' up all those little lacy bras and panties…couldn't help but wonder what they'd look like on," Spike chuckled as he thrust, remembering his previous discomfort and nervousness.

Buffy grinned wickedly as she rocked forward. "You got so nervous, you just gave me your credit card and left the store. And then I bought that babydoll nightie…came downstairs in it after my bath…. I was afraid I'd have to call an ambulance, you were choking so hard," Buffy teased as she nipped as Spike's ear, squeezing around him.

"I was afraid the men in the white coats were gonna' bust through the door…thought I'd go mad…could see right through all that sheer chiffon…those hard little nips, just waiting to be sucked…," the strong pull of his mouth had Buffy writhing on his lap, enjoying the delicious slide of his cock filling her hungry channel over and over.

"Could see those bare, puffy lips, just waitin' for my thumb to slide between them," Spike reminisced, his thumb now attending to that needy spot, where before, he'd been too afraid to go.

"Feels so good when you do that, Daddy," Buffy groaned, grinding hard against his hand as she fucked his cock.

"That's it, baby…you come all over Daddy's cock," he coaxed. There was no need for pretense—no need to be anything other than what they were. Sure, in public, they had to choose one role or the other, as the occasion so dictated, but at home, in private, they ignored those limits and constraints. Spike no longer blinked or choked when "Fuck me, Daddy," groaned from Buffy's throat.

Spike rose to his knees, lowering Buffy back down to the mat, her toes tickling at his ears while her heels rested on his shoulders. He thrust deeply as he strummed her clit, drawing the most delicious groans from her taut body.

"Yes! Right there, just like that," Buffy cried as she squeezed around him.

"So tight…so wet…fit me like a glove, you do," Spike thrust in strong, steady strokes.

"I was wet for you all day…couldn't wait for you to watch me practice…help me stretch…feel your fingers…your tongue…your cock…. Just the thought of you had me squirming in my seat all day," Buffy confessed with a smile as she bucked hard against Spike's cock and fingers.

"None of those dirty little boys thought you were squirming in your seat for them, did they?"

"No, Daddy…just you…," Buffy grinned, loving it when possessive!Spike came out to play.

"That's my girl," Spike cooed, giving Buffy's clit a firm twist and making her cry out in pleasure.

"Yes, Daddy, yes!" Buffy praised as her tight walls strangled him even further.

"Oh, Kitten…," Spike groaned, spending his pleasure into her hot, sweet quim.

Spike gathered Buffy back into his arms, coming down, rocking slowly in each other's arms, indulging in languid kisses as the evening's stars began to shine in the darkening sky.

"Mmm, just what I was wanting," Buffy cooed. "Do you have to work tomorrow?" Buffy schemed, seeing as the weekend was upon them.

"Not unless the hospital calls," Spike promised.

"So we don't have to get dressed again till Monday?" Buffy queried, biting her lip with a grin.

Spike smiled and shook his head at the beautiful, petite golden goddess slowly rocking in his lap, "Whatever my sweet girl wants…then that's what she'll get."

"Less laundry that way, too," she teased with a playful kiss.

Spike smiled at the prospect, "That's my girl…always thinking ahead…."


	3. Chapter 3

As Mrs. Fineburg did _not_ go into labor that weekend, Buffy got her wish, spending the entire weekend with her step-father without a stitch of clothing on between them.

Of course, the poor kid delivering pad Thai Saturday night was a little surprised to say the least.

Sunday night found them in their bed, languidly touching each other following a steamy, shared bath. Buffy lay with her head pillowed on Spike's stomach, absently dragging her nails slowly up and down the back of his bare right thigh.

Spike smiled contentedly as the fingers on his left hand fanned out her silky golden hair that lay on his belly, while the fingers on his right teased lightly up and down the shadowy line of her nether lips.

"Mmm…a very smooth shave if I do say so myself," Spike chuckled, running his forefinger gently over his handiwork.

"Feels nice…," Buffy sighed, contentedly as she let her legs fall open a little further. She slid her hand back slightly so that her fingers could draw their same path against Spike's sac and hardening shaft.

She ground her hips against her step-father's gentle touch, already eager for another round.

"Don't you have a French test tomorrow?" Spike gently reminded though his fingers did not stop in their progress.

"Daddy, I knew more French than Mrs. DuBois when I was in kindergarten," Buffy reminded. They had made several trips to France during Buffy's childhood before Joyce fell ill, and Spike made sure Buffy could speak fluently before they made their first trip. "And I've already tested out of two semesters of college French." It seemed that Buffy's language skills were only matched by her new-found prowess at tempting Spike's well-used cock back to life.

"Nevertheless, maybe we should brush up a little…wouldn't want you to get…rusty, hmmm?" Spike suggested wickedly, his blue eyes darkening with lust.

"_Je veux ta bite grand," _Buffy cooed needfully, turning her head as it lay on Spike's stomach to give that big cock she wanted a nice, long lick.

"Suce-le," Spike groaned as Buffy obeyed, taking all of him into her mouth and sucking his full length before swirling her tongue around the slickened tip.

"_Lechez ma chatte,__s'il__-vous-__plait, Papa," _Buffy coaxed, taking another long, seductive lick of his firm shaft as she twisted her petite body to lay opposite his. Her left leg rested against his sculpted chest as she tempted him with a peek of the pussy that needed a licking.

"Le soixante-neuf?" he questioned with a shameless gleam in his eye.

"Ouais!" his step-daughter agreed, dipping her head again for another taste, humming happily as Spike lifted her hips to his chest, his tongue laving her smooth, puffy lips, invading the tight, slick walls of her pussy, and stroking firmly at the hungry clit below.

"Si nu, donc doux, donc succulent…," Spike worshipped that bare, sweet, luscious flesh with his mouth, suckling at the eager pearl between her legs.

"_Tous pour moi," _Buffy cooed in appreciation that the delicious, hard cock at her lips was all for her. Taking the full length into her mouth, she sucked in her cheeks she pulled up, repeating the sensuous slide over and again, Spike groaning against her slick flesh as he licked and suckled at the juncture of her thighs.

"_Mes couilles, Chaton_," Spike urged.

"_Ouais, Papa_," Buffy complied, stroking firmly at his shaft as her mouth suckled at the tight sac below. Her right hand gently massaged the full balls while her mouth welcomed the sensitive flesh. She moaned around the swollen mouthful as Spike plunged two fingers in her hungry channel—his expert fingers stroking at the needy flesh inside as his tongue ran an insistent path against her aching nub.

"_Ça te plaît_?" Buffy asked breathily, pausing in her ministrations only briefly.

Did he like it? Hell, of course he did. Spike groaned in appreciation as his mouth devoured Buffy's hungry sex—licking, nipping, tonguing—from front to back, leaving none of the eager flesh untended.

"_N'arrete pas_," Spike gasped as his cock hit the back of Buffy's throat.

His plea was unnecessary, however, Buffy was determined to stop only when she had milked him of every last drop.

Spike's slickened fingers on his left continued to fill Buffy's snug channel while his slippery index finger on his right coaxed open her tight little rosebud, earning him a swallowing gasp and then a long moan around his warm cock as Buffy relaxed into the invasion.

"_Je jouis!" _Buffy cried out, her tight walls contracting hard against Spike's fingers, her juices flowing onto his waiting tongue. She sucked and stroked with a frenzied abandon as her orgasm sent waves of pleasure from her core to every extremity.

"_Oh, ouais, baisez-moi!" _Spike groaned as he fucked her eager mouth, her hands coaxing the seed from his tight sac. A few more vigorous descents of her luscious mouth and Spike was ready to burst.

"C_haton…," _Spike warned with the familiar nickname though it was unnecessary, Buffy drank down every drop of his thick, salty spendings just as she'd practiced over the last few weeks.

When she'd swallowed all that he had to offer, Buffy turned, snuggling onto Spike's chest.

"_Alors, je suis prêt pour__mon examen_?" Buffy slyly sought her step-father's approval of her test preparation.

"_Bien sûr_, _Chaton," _Spike chuckled, drawing Buffy close and pulling the covers over them. "Kitten, you were _born_ ready."


	4. Chapter 4

_The next day, 4:30 pm_

"Va te faire mettre, salope!... Merde!... Putain!" Buffy ranted to the universe as she stormed into the kitchen, frantically raiding the cabinets, looking for sustenance before spying the jar of Nutella and ripping a banana away from its fellows. Unscrewing the jar and tossing the lid angrily across the cabinet, Buffy harshly punctured the foil seal with her fingernail, unceremoniously ripping it off and tossing it aside before gouging the smooth surface of the chocolate and layering the banana thickly with its contents.

(_Go fuck yourself, bitch!..._ _Shit!... Slut!)_

After a couple of substantial bites, Buffy resumed her muttered rant over her mouthful. She opened the refrigerator door and bent over, searching for the milk. Her short, plaid skirt inched higher and higher up her thighs, the further she bent to peer into the icebox.

In her angry and indignant state, Buffy failed to notice her step-father coming in from the backyard, staring steadily at her after taking a seat in a kitchen chair. He sat quietly, observing her antics as she bent in front of the vegetable drawer, taking note of the white cotton peeking from underneath her short skirt.

Finding the milk, Buffy slung the container onto the counter, flung open the cabinet for a glass, nearly crushing it in her grip, a shooting back the cold white liquid before slamming the glass onto the counter, little milk droplets scattering at the force.

"Mange de la merde et meurs, pute!" Buffy muttered, as yet unsatisfied with her foul upbraiding of her absent French teacher.

(_Eat shit and die, whore!)_

"Buffy!" Spike mildly chastised, a little shocked at her colorful insults. Not that he'd never heard her talk dirty before, but it was usually at his own request.

Surprised at Spike's presence, Buffy turned toward her step-father, shocked as she tried to remember to chew her current mouthful and swallow, a little chocolate still smeared on her lips.

"Sorry, Daddy," Buffy tried to shake off her temper, "but that stupid Ms. DuBois made me miss my lunch today, waiting for her to remake her test and forcing me to take it again because she thought I had cheated. Just because I could finish her idiotic test in five minutes and make a hundred, she thinks I must have stolen a copy of her test ahead of time. I told her I could pass any test she wanted to give me, so I had to miss lunch waiting for her to write a new one." Buffy scraped her banana through the chocolate once more before setting the jar on the table and taking an indignant bite.

"We will deal with that issue tomorrow, but, nevertheless, you have been a very naughty young lady."

Buffy was momentarily confused at Spike's sharp correction. "Oh, come on, I learned all those words from you in the first place," she defended, reminding her step-father that she learned all the best dirty words from him, anyway.

"Oh, you're not in trouble for the swearing. Actually, I was rather impressed. No…I noticed _another_ house rule that you've broken this afternoon." Spike hinted, trying to maintain some measure of firm control in his voice.

Buffy's brow furrowed as she gently placed the remainder of her banana on the table, wondering what else she could have done.

"I see someone is still wearing her panties in the house," he chided, tucking the hem of Buffy's skirt into her waistband to reveal her round bottom covered by the concealing garment.

"Oh!" Buffy blushed as she had genuinely forgotten, then tried to school the smile that wanted to spread across her face. She was certain that if she really wanted to continue her rant and wallow in her anger, she could, but the prospect of several, satisfying orgasms seemed like a better option. Immediately, her expression softened, biting her lip as she cast her eyes downward, twisting a little like an errant schoolgirl.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she whispered, playing her part to perfection. Spike knew how much she had enjoyed this game earlier, and had been itching to catch her out for some supposed infraction, just to have a chance to play out the fantasy in greater detail.

"That may be, but little girls who forget the rules get their bottoms warmed," Spike reminded with a cocked eyebrow as he spread his legs. Buffy was instantly wet at the thought.

"Come here, kitten," Spike patted his thighs, Buffy bending over them and resting her head against the outside of his right thigh.

"Are you going to spank me, Daddy?" Buffy questioned with a false innocence, thoroughly excited by their game.

"Yes, pet…you see panties get so very dirty when you wear them at home," Spike rubbed the nearly transparent crotch of her white panties, the wet, warmth seeping through the cloth.

"Did I ruin them?" Buffy asked in feigned naiveté, wide green eyes looking up at her step-father.

"I'm afraid so, luv." Spike pulled down the panties till they rested low on her golden thighs. Buffy had to hold in the moan in her throat as Spike's hand surveyed the two, perfect tanned globes, planning a place to make his strike.

"Now you tell me if it's too much for you," Spike reminded, not wanting to get too carried away with his antics.

"I'm a big girl, Daddy. I can take it," Buffy tried to sound contrite, but her words took on a sultry quality that betrayed her act.

Spike's left hand came down with a stinging smack on one cheek, taking Buffy a little by surprise. The next spank pinkened the other cheek, with Buffy starting to squirm on his lap.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Buffy sniffled dryly, still staying in character, so Spike knew his punishment was purely for pleasure.

"You still need to learn your lesson, sweetheart." Spike's hand came down across both cheeks, earning another gasp from the blonde across his lap.

"I'll be _very _good, Daddy. I promise," Buffy pleaded slyly.

"I know you will," Spike replied darkly, his erection now straining against his trousers. His hand met the crease of Buffy's bottom and thighs.

"Mm-ooh!" Buffy tried to swallow her moan, knowing that the juices from her pussy were running all over her step-father's thighs.

"Someone is getting Daddy's clothes awfully dirty," Spike grinned at the slick stain growing on the silky, gray fabric. He spread her thighs a bit more and delivered a spank right to her bare pussy, causing Buffy to grind against his thigh for more friction.

Giving Buffy a little reward for her compliance, he slid his stinging fingers down and back across the swollen furrow, noting how impossibly soaked she'd become. He slid his fingers into her tight channel, coaxing at her g-spot, the pressure from his thigh and the attentions of his digits making her buck against his hand. He slipped a finger down to her clit, giving her a few firm strokes, bringing her near the edge.

"I think I've been just a little too easy on you, Buffy. It's my own fault I suppose," Spike sighed dramatically, before removing his fingers from her slick flesh.

"Nooooo!" Buffy cried out, desperate for Spike's hands to continue their work.

"Do you promise to remember from now on?" Spike queried, his hands moving to part Buffy's rosy ass cheeks.

"Yes, Daddy! I'll remember!" Buffy pleaded with a deceiving whimper. Fact was, she considered leaving them on again tomorrow to see if she could garner the same treatment she was currently enjoying.

"Well…just two more then, I suppose," Spike conceded, his right hand pulling one globe aside so his left could give two stinging smacks to Buffy's tight, little arse. Buffy bucked at the intense sensation, coming apart, face down as she lay across Spike's thighs. His fingers immediately tended to her pussy once again, filling her channel with expert fingers while he stroked her clit, drawing out her pleasure.

"Mmm, right there, Daddy."

"That's it, baby girl," he soothed, watching her eyes close in blissful pleasure, panties still slack at her knees.

After recovering from the high of her orgasm, Buffy lay languidly across Spike's lap, her right hand moving toward the straining tented fabric that revealed how turned on their little game had made him.

Still in her coquettish innocence, Buffy pouted, "Daddy, I'm still a little hungry," her true meaning not at all mistaken.

"Well, you'd better find something to eat then, pet."

Crawling off Spike's lap, Buffy let the errant panties fall to her ankles before stepping out of them. Remembering his estimation of them being "ruined," Spike grinned as he pocketed the sodden garment. With a wicked grin, Buffy picked up the jar of Nutella again before kneeling in front of Spike's still spread knees.

"I think one more snack should do the trick," Buffy grinned as she slid the metal fastening to the side, unhooking the tab, then sliding the zipper down to reveal the hard length concealed within.

Buffy smiled at the ready access to Spike's eager cock and slipped back into character for a brief moment.

"No spanking for Daddy," she sighed dramatically, noting how diligently he followed the house rule requiring that no underwear be worn in the house.

"Maybe I'll have to find some in the back of my drawer, or something," he teased, curious at the prospect of Buffy turning the tables on him.

Buffy grinned wickedly as she pulled the charcoal trousers down his thighs. She left them in a pile, along with her abandoned panties, seeing as how his slacks would have to be sent to the dry cleaners anyway after she thoroughly stained the left thigh with her juices.

Stripping out of her white blouse and bra, Buffy stood before Spike, gloriously bare, and reached for the jar of nutella she'd abandoned there earlier. She spun off the cap and reached in for a double fingerful of the thick chocolate.

Spike loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar and cuffs, ripping the constraining garments over his head in his haste and leaving them to the other laundry piled in the floor. He was quite certain this would be a messy business.

"Seeing as I didn't get to finish my snack earlier, I guess you're going to have to do, Daddy," Buffy warned with a mock innocence, dropping back to her knees and giving Spike a good coating of the chocolaty paste.

Spike groaned as Buffy's warm tongue licked him from root to tip, a strip of pink flesh peeking out from the dark brown that surrounded it.

"Is it good, baby?" he purred, running his fingers through Buffy's long, blonde locks.

"Mmm hmm, Daddy," Buffy purred as she collected a drop from the glistening tip of his cock along with the rich sweetness of the chocolate.

"Have a taste…," Buffy offered as she rose up to share the chocolate on her tongue, her hand coated in nutella as she stroked Spike's rigid length.

"So sweet," he smiled as Buffy lowered her mouth to his cock once more. She swirled her tongue around the swollen head as if eating an ice cream cone. She dipped down his full length as if he were a fudgecicle.

"Kitten's hungry tonight," he cooed, entranced at her tireless devouring of his cock.

"Starving, Daddy," she pouted, dipping again to suck the chocolate from the soft skin that lay over the rigid steel below. Buffy's diligent tongue worked every vein and ridge, coaxing the rich treat onto her tongue. She relaxed her throat, wrapping her lips around the root, collecting all the sweetness that had collected there.

"Daddy'll take care of you, baby girl," he promised as Buffy's head bobbed back and forth toward his crotch. His blue eyes fell closed for a moment as he reveled in the sensations—Buffy's hot, wet mouth licking and sucking his cock… the sounds of lips against slick flesh…the groans of desire and pleasure… the heavy, sweet scent in the air…. It was more than Spike could ever have hoped for—Buffy was so eager to learn, wanting to know how to please him, curious to explore something new every day.

And right now, Buffy decided to explore his sac for any chocolate that found its way below. She suckled at each one, nursing the tender flesh for any of the clinging confection till they drew tight against Spike's body. Her lips once again tended to Spike's straining cock with her fingers lightly massaging the snug balls beneath.

"Is Daddy all clean, kitten?" Spike asked, pushing back the hair falling in her face so he could see her wide green eyes.

"Mmm hmm," she hummed around his cock, still bobbing up and down the length of his long cock, sucking firmly as she pulled back.

"I'm afraid you're about to make Daddy all dirty again," he groaned, feeling the tingling in his balls begin to rise.

"Yummy," Buffy hummed again with a surge of enthusiasm, licking and sucking frantically until she could feel the pulsing thrum inside her mouth.

"Oh, Kitten!" Spike cried out as he began to come. "Your mouth…so hot…so sweet," he groaned with his hand fisted in her hair. He couldn't help the bucking of his hips toward her mouth, losing himself in the wet warmth of her lovely mouth.

After swallowing all of Spike's heated, salty spendings, Buffy climbed back onto Spike's lap, this time straddling his hips. Spike tasted a mixture of himself and the rich chocolate on her tongue as she kissed him deeply, his hands caressing her abused bottom.

"Your bottom is still warm," Spike grinned at Buffy's pout.

"You're quite thorough with your punishments," she quipped with a grin.

"Let's see if we can do something about that, shall we?" Spike lifted Buffy off his lap and bent her over the kitchen table, ass high in the air.

"All that chocolate made me a little hungry myself," Spike grinned as he took hold of the nutella jar, spreading a soothing layer to Buffy's warmed backside. He then took another scoop and covered her slick folds, her swollen lips, her pearl-hard clit, and even her tingling back passage, still rosy from the pair of spankings it suffered.

"Best dessert ever," he grinned, licking a soothing path onto her coated backside, suckling at the sticky globes of flesh he'd finger painted with chocolate. His talented tongue soothed the sting from her bottom, making the spanking she took more than worth it.

Buffy groaned as Spike's mouth crossed the furrow of her backside, desperately wanting his mouth's attentions there.

"So impatient," Spike tsked as he finished with her bottom, gleaming golden once again. "Now…for my favorite place in the whole world." Spike gave a long, luxurious lick to the deep pink flesh, now darkened by the addition of the chocolate spread. "Even sweeter, now…," he praised, lapping at the needy folds and suckling on the pouty lips.

Buffy stood on her tip toes and thrust her bottom out to give Spike greater access to her clit.

"Ooh, yes, Daddy, right there," Buffy cried out as she teetered on her tip toes. Spike suckled at the hungry nub until he'd consumed all the wealth of chocolate hidden away in the warm folds.

He moved higher, lapping at her juicy core once again as a hand moved to her clit, stroking steadily. Consuming all he could find, Spike spread her peachy cheeks with his free hand and tongued all the sweet nutella from her back passage, his tongue darting in to the tight sphincter, heightening her pleasure as his fingers continued their ministrations.

"Oh, Daddy…I'm coming again," Buffy called out as Spike's tongue traced back to her center and lapped up the chocolaty spending that poured forth, her pulsing channel contracting around his tongue. "More, Daddy, please!" Buffy cried, the ache to be filled not subsiding even after she'd climaxed twice.

"I've got you, sweetheart," Spike assured, thrusting his already hard shaft deep into her snug depth.

"Oh, yessss," she hissed, reveling in the fullness as Spike took her from behind, her nails digging into the oak table. "Just like that," she groaned, pushing back against his forceful thrusts.

"Love your cock inside me, Daddy," Buffy praised, her back arching in pleasure.

"Love burying my cock inside your sweet pussy, Kitten," Spike thrust deeply and rapidly, reaching around to nurse Buffy's turgid nipples with his fingers.

"Such a beautiful…tight…warm quim…all for me," he praised as he buried himself over and again in Buffy's tight depths. Spike felt a giddy sense of possessiveness, unashamedly pleased that he was the only man to explore Buffy's body this way, the man she lured away from self-imposed abstinence in hopes of finding a release from the frustrating demands of her body.

Even now, just a few weeks after she showed up at his office, baring herself and begging him to make her come, they had quickly dispensed with any need for shame or self-consciousness, letting each fantasy and hidden desire play out without fear of recrimination from the other.

"Only for you, Daddy," Buffy assured, needing to look no further than her own house for the man she wanted to make love to for her first time and every time thereafter.

"That's right, baby," Spike leaned over the length of Buffy's taut back, nipping underneath her ear down to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, drawing out moans as his tender lips juxtaposed with his powerful cock sliding home over and again.

Spike swung the chair around they'd earlier vacated, sitting them both down, with Buffy's back facing his chest. She groaned as the change in position drove Spike's cock so deep within her. Buffy bounced on his rigid flesh as Spike twisted her nipples with one hand and her clit with the other.

The fingers on Buffy's breasts made her miss his mouth, however.

"Daddy, will you suck my nipples?" Buffy called out in a needful whimper.

"There's nothing in this world I'd rather do, baby," Spike nodded to the abandoned jar, which Buffy reached for on the table and brought back as Spike coaxed her leg over his lap so she could face him.

"Rub it on your nipples for me," Spike requested with Buffy grinning and scooping a small handful to coat her nipples, bringing them to dark, pebbled peaks. Spike happily attacked one breast as he massaged the other, suckling off the chocolate goo from one tit as he spread it thoroughly around the other.

"You have the most perfect breasts I've ever seen, pet," Spike groaned, lapping at the other with appreciation.

Buffy moaned in the satisfaction of Spike's mouth suckling at her breast, they had ached for his lips all day. Buffy's hips rolled like waves against Spike's lap, eyes closed in the intense pleasure. His thumb drew steady gentle circles at her clit, keeping her primed for one more orgasm before he came inside her.

Buffy's hand clutched in his blonde curls, keeping Spike's mouth latched to her breast.

"Tonight, will you suck them till we fall asleep?" she asked with hooded lids, already looking sleepy-eyed with lust.

"Anything you want, sweetheart," Spike assured, loving how responsive Buffy had become. As Spike continued to thrust up into her hot sheathe, he couldn't help but picture a baby at her breast in a few years and his sneaking a nip or two after their infant had fallen asleep.

Spike closed his eyes and tended to her needy breast just as he had on that night when his world tilted on its axis and he found Buffy perched naked on his exam table, desperate for the release she could never find on her own. Just when he thought that part of his life was dead and buried, his second chance appeared in his otherwise deserted office, a mass of frustration and need. And now, just a few weeks later, she was brazenly riding his cock in the middle of the kitchen in the waning late afternoon light, so willing to explore and experiment, the perfect mate for him, even under such unusual circumstances.

The needy mewl that echoed from Buffy throat broke Spike out of his reverie.

"Can you come one more time for me, Kitten?" Spike coaxed.

"I think so, Daddy," Buffy cooed. Spike gave his thumb a good, solid lick then dropped it where their bodies joined pressing hard on Buffy's clit and giving it a final, little twist as he sucked fiercely at a puckered nipple.

Buffy tightened around Spike at this onslaught of sensation, her exhausted body giving up its coil of tension just once more before Spike would give in.

"Daddy…Daddy…I'm coming…," she panted, every muscle taught and contracting.

"That's it, baby…come around Daddy's cock," Spike encouraged, the tight rhythmic squeeze forcing Spike over the edge and releasing ropes of heated come deep into Buffy's slick channel. Their lips crashed together as she rode him down from his high, panting from excitement and exertion.

Though, for now, Buffy's birth control pills quelled any repercussions from such activities, Spike couldn't help but fantasize about the time, sometime down the road, when that same release would lead to a baby in Buffy's belly. Spike grinned at the thought while sharing a lingering kiss with the petite blonde still straddling his lap. The pulsing in his cock finally began to slow, and their foreheads rested against each other once breathing became a necessity.

Buffy's growling stomach announced itself in the quiet stillness that followed, causing both to chuckle at the interruption.

"What do you say to a little surf and turf after we get cleaned up?" Spike asked, the back of his hand rubbing against the neglected tummy.

"Sounds wonderful," Buffy smiled, giving Spike a kiss as she remained on his lap.

"Ready for a bath, Kitten?" Spike inquired.

"Will you wash all the places that are really sticky, Daddy?" Buffy batted her lashes, her question lilting with that feigned innocence she had perfected over the last several weeks.

"Of course, Kitten….Isn't that what all good daddies would do?"

Xxx

"Aren't you going to join me?" Buffy encouraged, swiping at a bit of leftover chocolate at the side of Spike's mouth.

"In a bit—just enjoying bathing you right now," Spike confessed, running his soapy hands across Buffy's breasts, working with his thumbs at any lingering chocolate hidden away near the puckered nipples. The petite blonde lay back, relaxing in the warn water as Spike's hands skimmed over her golden body.

"Have you wanted to do this before?" Buffy coaxed, enjoying the little admissions of desire she could wring from her step-father.

"Well, considering you've never been very good about shutting the bathroom door when you bathed or showered, I think you can probably guess the answer to that," he smirked, knowing that Buffy was trying to catch him out.

"Modesty's overrated," Buffy quipped, her point proven as Spike's soapy hands dipped between her thighs, thoroughly cleaning away the sweet remnants of their afternoon's activities.

Spike had always tried his best to ignore the flashes of skin through the door left ajar, but there were several times within the last couple of years when Buffy's baths and showers stopped him in his tracks, and he would be forced to hide and watch until her attention was diverted away from the door and he could make his escape. Her soapy breasts, covered in bubbles, except for the dusky tips revealed by the descending suds would often halt his progress, making him return to his room and lock the door once she stood up for her towel. He couldn't bring himself to fuss about the shower curtain that was never stretched quite far enough across the bar. The puddle of water that accumulated was payment enough to watch Buffy bend over to shave her legs. There was many a morning when Buffy's bathroom routine had forced Spike back to the master bedroom for a change of clothes.

"You didn't answer my question," Buffy sing-songed, drawing a wet finger down the length of Spike's neck.

Spike smiled and closed his eyes briefly in resignation, "Yes, for quite a while now, in fact."

Buffy's eyes twinkled as she raised up, the water dripping back down into the tub as she offered Spike a lingering kiss.

"Good." Buffy leaned back with a self-satisfied grin. She retrieved the razor from the side of the tub, offering it to her step-father. "Shave me, Daddy?" she asked coquettishly.

"Anytime, kitten…"

Xxx

After another round of lovemaking in the tub (Buffy insisted that they give the shave a test-run), Buffy slipped a simple black dress over her otherwise bare body for the promised dinner out as compensation for the missing lunch she'd endured at the hands of the Sunnydale public school system.

Sadly, the restaurant was a little too crowded to get away with much flirting, combined with the fact that Xander and Anya were dining in the opposite corner of the room, Xander having saved up a couple of paychecks for their anniversary dinner. Spike would steal a secret touch at a nipple or underneath Buffy's napkin when he was sure no one else was looking, whispering promises that he would soon take her out to a place famous for its privacy and discretion.

Buffy was thoroughly enjoying the surf and turf, but she was also eager to get Spike back home, naked once more in the bed they now shared.

Spike sensed and shared the same urgency, waving off dessert and throwing down a large bill, in lieu of waiting for the check. They hurried back home, stripping off clothes as soon as they walked in the door, falling quickly into bed, joining again, rocking simply into one another, Spike paying homage to Buffy's breasts as earlier promised. True to his word, even their mutual orgasms did not end Spike's dedication to the beautiful twin mounds that had waited so long for his attentions.

Buffy smiled in her exhaustion, her body wrung out and sated after all Spike's ministrations. Just as her eyes began to close, she felt Spike shift a little lower, his lips wrap gently around the puckered nipple, suckling in a warm, gentle rhythm as they both succumbed to the pull of sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

"Dr. Giles, please come in," Principal Snyder gushed, eager to court the more affluent parents and their support of Sunnydale High. "And Buffy…," he smiled falsely as the senior followed her father in the door. As much as the unpleasant administrator was always willing to hit up the local doctors and lawyers for funds to support the band or the basketball team, his heartily disdained any actual contact with his students. The small, balding man's demeanor suffered once he realized that Dr. William Giles was not in his office to offer him a nice, hefty donation.

Spike shook Snyder's offered hand out of social obligation, but turned his head back to his daughter during the greeting.

"Le connard?" her father inquired. (_"The idiot?")_

"Ouais, Papa."

"Je vois." (_"I see.")_

Finally turning back to the pinched-faced despot, Spike addressed the little man who seemed to get off on causing as much discontent amongst the student body as possible.

"Mr. Snyder, it seems that my daughter was kept from eating lunch yesterday to retake a test for Ms. Dubois…," Spike looked toward Buffy for verification.

"Salope," (_bitch)_ Buffy smiled falsely in response.

"Yes, for Ms. DuBois, apparently, because she accused my daughter of cheating due to the fact that she finished the test quickly."

"Elle est con! J'ai su plus de français qu'elle fait quand j'étais cinq." ("_She is stupid. I knew more French than she does when I was five.) _Buffy ranted in flawless French as Snyder could only furrow his brow in confusion, trying unsuccessfully to redirect the conversation.

"Se calmer, le bien-aimé. Je m'occuperai de cet morceau de merde, alors nous irons déjeuner. Je pense à une chatte belle et savoureuse au dessert," Spike consoled calmly, his tone giving no clue to the meaning of his fluent French. Though he would have loved to give Buffy a leering, cocked eyebrow, his expression remained fatherly, though his words suggested anything but.

_("Calm down, sweetheart. I'll take care of this piece of shit and then we'll go to lunch. I was thinking of a beautiful, tasty pussy for dessert.")_

"Je crois que c'est sur le menu," Buffy replied matter-a-factly, though trying to school a smile.

_(I believe it is on the menu.")_

"Dr. Giles… if I may…," Snyder tried to disrupt the pair's conversation, feeling completely out of the loop in his ignorance. The sophomore exchange student waiting at the registrar's desk was not, however, his eyes growing wide in disbelief at the conversation. Fortunately, Cordelia, in her bid for Miss Sunnydale, volunteered to escort the new student to his classes, whisking the stunned foreigner away before Buffy had Spike had a chance to exit the office.

"Principal Snyder, the fact of the matter is that Buffy is far too advanced for her current class," Spike explained, his tone not inviting argument.

"Dr. Giles, I assure you that Ms. Du Bois is a true professional," Snyder defended.

"I'm sure she is," Spike replied drolly. "I do not want Buffy subjected to such a hostile environment for the remainder of the term. I assume you have Ms. DuBois' final on hand?"

"Well, of course, but it's highly irregular…."

"I would like Buffy to take it here in the office tomorrow, and I would like a copy of it faxed to my offices before it is graded. Are we clear?" Spike insisted.

"But Dr. Giles, Buffy is required to maintain a full class load, and it's a bit late to transfer classes so late in the semester."

"Let's see…. Buffy, your French class is right before lunch, correct?"

"Oui," Buffy replied primly.

Turning back to Snyder, Spike continued, "Then I will be picking up my daughter after fourth period each day and tutor her for an independent study in advanced French," Dr. Giles insisted. Snyder seemed to be mulling over the proposal. "Unless you'd rather I'd speak to Mrs. DuBois directly," Spike offered, though Snyder saw it more as a threat than anything, knowing that he hired Mrs. DuBois more for her bustline than for her expertise in foreign language education.

"Fine…fine," Principal Snyder gave in, palms out as if fending off any further debate. "Buffy may take her final tomorrow as long as you make certain she's getting the proper instruction at home."

"I can assure you Principal Snyder, my lessons are _quite_ thorough."

"Yes, well, good seeing you, Dr. Giles."

"Casse-toi, Monsieur Snyder," ("_Fuck off, Mr. Snyder") _Spike exited with a grin, knowing his meaning was completely lost on the officious bastard.

"Sure…sure," Principal Snyder laughed weakly, ready to shut his door and sneak another nip from the bottle he had hidden away in his bottom drawer.

Closing the door behind them, Spike suggested, "Buffy, why don't you go pick up your homework, and I'll help you review for your final tomorrow," her step-father suggested, though his true intentions had already been discussed in the principal's office.

"I'll be right back, Daddy," Buffy grinned, standing on her tip toes to offer a quick peck to Spike's cheek. After his daughter's exit, the blonde doctor turned to the registrar, "Parent conferences are on the 21st and 22nd of this month, is that correct?" Spike continued at the secretary's affirmative nod. "Well, I'd like to take Buffy out for a college tour on the 19th and 20th, can you arrange for her teachers to get her assignments ready?"

"Certainly, Dr. Giles," the registrar pulled up Buffy's class schedule. "It looks like you wouldn't have much to discuss with her teachers, anyway," the staffer praised, turning the screen so Spike could see the column of high grades for himself.

Spike smiled at the forgone conclusion, "She may deserve an extra treat for those marks," the good doctor waggled his eyebrows before striding out the office door and meeting Buffy for a most diverting lunch.

xxx

"Do you have one of the private tables available?" Spike inquired of the maitre'd, slipping him a hefty tip to encourage his assistance.

"Certainly, Sir, Madam, right this way," the gracious host led the pair to a cozy, curtained room with a red plush, circular booth and tablecloths that dipped to the floor. Buffy grinned at his thick Italian accent and the fact that he called her 'madam' instead of 'miss.' Though she thoroughly enjoyed her dichotomy at home, both doting step-daughter and adventurous lover, she was glad that the maitre'd assumed they were husband and wife rather than father and daughter. While they could indulge in their dual roles in private, she knew that for the rest of the world, they could only be one or the other.

"Bottle of the house red, please," Spike requested without hesitation. Buffy smiled confidently, not giving the steward any cause to doubt her legal age. Giancarlo's had been recommended by a colleague of Spike's who appreciated the privacy the intimate setting afforded (Spike could only assume why Dr. Ridley suggested the off-the-beaten-path restaurant that was fifteen minutes outside Sunnydale). Plus, he said the calamari was excellent.

Another waiter brought in bread, salad and antipasto and took their orders for the calamari, eggplant parmesan and ravioli. The wine steward stepped in next to pour the two glasses of red and then shut the curtains until their appetizer was ready. Buffy raised her glass for a casual toast.

"To the benefits of learning at home," she smiled slyly, clinking her glass with Spike's as he chuckled.

"I'll have you know, I'm a most demanding taskmaster," Spike teased into Buffy's ear, placing a promising kiss to her neck.

"I think I can manage," Buffy retorted with a grin, taking a sip of her wine before opening her red-stained lips to Spike's mouth. "And thank you for handling Snyder today—he had no idea what hit him."

"I never did like that weaselly wanker. Too bad what happened to Flutie, would have much rather dealt with him for the last four years."

"No kidding. But, hey, just four-and-a-half months and we will never have to deal with that rat again," Buffy raised her glass mockingly for another drink. She followed that with a bite of salad and bread, not wanting too much wine on an empty stomach. Their waiter knocked and entered with the calamari, giving it a liberal dose of lemon juice before exiting once more.

"Speaking of which, I know we talked about Berkeley, but what are considering for your major? There are several prestigious universities in San Francisco; with your SAT scores, you should be able to take your pick."

"I was thinking maybe R.N. or P.A." Buffy looked expectantly at Spike as she popped a piece of the fried squid in her mouth.

"Why not just go for your M.D. if you want to go into medicine?"

"Time, for one—there are other things I want to do besides just go to school," Buffy blushed lightly, trying to conceal the little grin that threatened.

"Like what?" Spike teased, taking a drink from the stemmed glass.

"I don't know…lots of things," Buffy looked skyward with a lighthearted shrug, clearly trying to conceal her musings on babies and the like. Of course, it was far too early for such eventualities, and she hadn't even broached the topic with Spike just yet, for fear of scaring him with the prospect. Asking him if he ever wanted _more_ children would just seem a little too awkward to bring up in conversation.

"You were a huge help with the emergency delivery on the Murdaugh's kitchen floor last year. Didn't seem too fazed by all the blood…the chaos…the awkwardly stretched vaginas…."

Buffy laughed as Spike tried test her squeamishness. "Here, eat your squid," Buffy rolled her eyes, popping the cocktail sauced ring into Spike's mouth.

"Hey, I want one with the little legs," he groused playfully.

"Huh-uh, all mine," his step-daughter grinned, popping the crispy critter into her mouth, smiling smugly.

"Spoiled," Spike accused with a mocking pout.

"That's right," Buffy sing-songed, waving the last piece of leggy calamari in her fingers.

"Ooh, I ought to take you over my knee and…," Spike threatened teasingly in her ear.

"Mmm, that will have to wait till we get home," Buffy corrected. She dipped the last coveted piece in the red sauce and made as if she were about to eat it but relented just before it passed her lips, feeding it, instead, to Spike who broke out into a huge smile at the offer.

"What a good girl you are, giving Daddy the last piece. I think you deserve a little reward, don't you?" Spike grinned, leaning close for a tangy kiss. The hand that had been resting on Buffy's left thigh meandered higher, though sufficiently hidden by the tablecloth. His fingers wandered with tickling, teasing strokes as Buffy bit her lip trying to contain her smile.

When his surreptitious fingers reached the apex of her thighs, Spike was pleasantly surprised by what he _didn't _find there.

"Did you forget something this morning, sweetheart?" Spike cooed as he ran his finger over the bare, smooth mound.

"Took them off in the restroom when I went to my locker," she whispered sultrily against her step-father's lips. "Check your left pocket," Buffy grinned, dipping her tongue into Spike's mouth.

While panties were forbidden at home, Spike wanted to make sure none of those wankers at Sunnydale High caught a peek at anything they shouldn't. Buffy was quickly discovering all sorts of convenient ways to dispose of her undies once she and Spike were alone.

Spike lay his fork against his plate and patted the soft mound in his left pocket with a grin.

"That's my girl," he praised, his finger tracing the dampening furrow of her nether lips. Buffy moved to shift her hips, trying to spread her thighs and afford Spike more room, but his words in her ear quelled her movements.

"Be still, kitten, just keep eating your lunch…don't let on that anything is happening…," Spike instructed in low tones, his finger breaching the slick split as Buffy acquiesced to his instructions, finishing her salad and sipping her wine as Spike's fingers stroked her tiny nub. He admired her capacity to retain a calm demeanor even though he could see her pulse quickening and her hazel eyes growing dark.

"But what about you, Daddy?" Buffy slipped her left hand to his trouser-covered thigh, drawing seductive strokes down the length.

"Later, pet. Just watching you is what I want right now." The added anxiety of being caught was setting every nerve on edge, multiplying the sensations of Spike's fingers ten-fold.

Spike watched for any tell-tale fluttering in the curtain before brushing the backs of his fingers across Buffy's nipples, hardening them immediately. He couldn't help but notice how the silk glided over her skin without impediment.

"I take it the bra's in my pocket as well?"

"Now you have a matching set," Buffy teased, earning a kiss and a series of deep, hard strokes from her step-father.

"You think of everything," Spike admired, giving Buffy another kiss, the tenderness and simplicity of which belied what his fingers were secretly doing under her skirt.

The knock at the doorframe did not send Spike scurrying back to his side of the booth, instead, he straightened calmly though did not remove his hand from the juicy treasure it was exploring.

"Come in, please," Spike instructed, smiling genially to the waiter as his fingers burrowed further into Buffy's sex. Playing her part, Buffy only breathed deeply and smiled as the waiter greeted them with their entrees.

"Would you like me to split the eggplant and the ravioli on both plates?" the waiter inquired, not revealing any knowledge he might have had as to the delicacy being prepared underneath the tablecloth.

"That will be fine," Spike nodded, his middle finger moving to draw enticing circles at Buffy's opening. The waiter removed their earlier plates, replacing them with fresh ones before serving up Spike and Buffy's lunch order.

"Parmesan, madam?"

"Please," Buffy grinned as Spike's finger made shallow little thrusts in time with each swipe of the hard cheese against the grater.

"Thank you," Buffy replied, finally noticing a considerable mound covering her food. She stole a quick glare aimed at Spike when his fingers also paused.

"Sir?"

"Just a little," he teased, his ministrations again coinciding with the waiter's attentions to their plates. Buffy was wishing that Spike's request might have matched her own as her step-father's little games caused her pussy to throb with a need for release.

"Pepper?" he innocently asked, holding up an obscenely large pepper mill that looked like it could have been put to a variety of uses as well.

"A little," Buffy nearly whimpered, wishing instead for a great deal of 'pepper' but afraid of how spicy her dinner might become if he continued grinding as long as she wished. Spike twisted the finger still toying with her pussy with every turn of the grinder.

"Sir?" the waiter inquired, offering the same treatment to his entrée.

"A lot," Spike grinned, burrowing and twisting his fingers even further with every turn. After thoroughly dressing the plate with the dark spice, the waiter retrieved the wine bottle from its spot on the table.

"Another glass, madam?"

"Thank you," Buffy consented. As the waiter came to her side of the table to pour, Spike plunged another finger deep within Buffy's heated channel. Buffy bit her lip to keep from crying out as her walls began to pulse around Spike's fingers. The waiter refilled her water glass also, a little concerned at the flush that was creeping up her chest and neck.

"More wine, sir?"

"Fill it up," Spike leaned forward, under the guise of handing the stemmed glass to the waiter when, in actuality, his movement allowed yet another finger to slide between Buffy's legs, nearly revealing their more private activities. Fortunately, Buffy was ready with a forkful of ravioli.

"Mmm," the pasta helped to conceal her groan as she closed her eyes in perceived pleasure at the taste. "So good," she exclaimed as the tight coil of pleasure burst and began to unfurl and expand to her extremities.

"Here, honey, you have to try this," Buffy plucked another bite with her fork, turning and leaning toward Spike as the movement drove his fingers even further inside. He, too, groaned in enjoyment.

"Excellent," he agreed.

The waiter smiled, glad that they were enjoying their…meals…*ahem.*

"Sir, if you have time, there is a lovely little lake just behind the restaurant that you might enjoy. It's rather quiet this time of year, but you'll have to come see it in the spring when all the trees and flowers are blooming."

"What do you think, pet, do we have time to see the lake before we head back?"

"My next meeting is at three," Buffy considered, though the meeting in question was actually cheerleading practice.

"That's right before my next appointment, so I think we will take the scenic route," Spike smiled, his fingers soaking in Buffy's copious juices.

"That sounds like a lovely place for dessert," Buffy agreed, turning to the waiter with one last request—

"Chocolate cannoli…and make it 'to go.'


	6. Chapter 6

"Save some for me," Buffy giggled as her naked body bounced against the leather seat that was suddenly released to a full recline.

"Oh, don't worry there's plenty," Spike leered, painting all his favorite parts with the cannoli cream. He had driven the suggested route, finding an idyllically secluded place in view of a pristine lake, not often frequented in the winter, even though the day was relatively warm and sunny.

Their windows were down and sunroof open, making the confection gleam against Buffy's tanned body.

"The only way to truly enjoy dessert," Spike decided, lapping the cream from Buffy's dusky tips.

"I think I will have to agree," Buffy sighed, Spike dipping down to the heart he'd drawn on her bare mound, making certain the lower juncture ran the length of Buffy's nether lips.

His sinful tongue lapped and prodded, all the tension he'd fostered during lunch finally enjoying a more secluded venue.

Buffy raked her fingers through blonde curls with her right hand as her left trailed pink scratches up Spike's bare back, both of them having shucked off their clothes quickly once they'd left the restaurant.

He feasted on the combination of tangy juice and sweet cream, eager for his tongue to take the place his hands hand earlier occupied. He suckled at the candy-coated clit, then lapped at the swollen lips below, his fingers churning the heated depths, twisting his fingers to tease at the spongy flesh buried inside.

"Fuck, but you're delicious," Spike groaned as he gasped for a breath, eager to dive back down and nurse at the sweet little nub that drove his girl mad with pleasure.

"Right there, Daddy," Buffy lurched forward a little at the pressure before Spike's hand found an untended breast and pressed her back to the seat.

"Come for me, baby," he called out, his words muffled by her throbbing flesh.

Buffy's screams echoed through the interior of the car, escaping out the sunroof and windows. She hoped they were far enough away from the restaurant to avoid being heard.

Spike brought Buffy back to Earth slowly, his fingers slowly working at her sex till she recovered. He knew she was herself again as she snatched the Styrofoam box from the dash and flipped them over in the passenger seat.

With a deep swipe of her finger, she pulled the shiny cream from its pastry, painting Spike's already hard member with its sweetness.

"My turn," she chirped, first working the coated column like a tall ice cream cone, catching the slow slide of cream as it tried to run down the thick shaft.

Spike gently fisted her hair for a dual purpose—so he could have the pleasure of watching, and so her hair would not wind up coated in a sticky mess she couldn't explain during practice.

"You were so naughty for not letting me play with you during lunch," Buffy teased, her eyes shining bright in the afternoon sun.

"Sorry, pet," Spike had to grin, amused at the fact _he'd _apologized for not coming during their lunch. "You can make up for it now," he pleaded with puppy-dog eyes—the kind that always made Buffy smile.

That wide smile wrapped around Spike's sticky pole, the sweetness making her mouth water as she dove deeply to the root, making him sigh with delight.

"That's it, kitten, lick up all that cream," Spike moaned, giving himself over to all those lascivious fantasies he'd tried so long to repress. Going out for a late-night ice cream cone or Buffy's running out to the tune of the daily popsicle peddler had been making Spike groan in shame for awhile now. Hell, now he might as well buy stock in Ben and Jerry's—it would be well worth it.

She pulled and sucked in her cheeks, lapping at the stray traces that tried to escape her mouth. She suckled at the balls below, enjoying how it made him cry out in desire. She gave another long pass to his full length, running her tongue around the thick ridge and suckling at the sweetness that pooled at the tip.

Spike's eyes opened at the sound of Buffy's whimpers, to see her fingers between her legs, seeking to fill her body with only her slight digits.

"You want my cock, baby?" he asked huskily, knowing the decision would need to be made quickly.

"Mmm-hmm," she whimpered, hating that she was already so needy. He pulled her off with a wet plop, and in a swift motion, impaled her on his straining cock. He pinched the base for a moment, trying to stave off the orgasm that threatened.

"I probably won't last long, baby, not after all that."

"Don't care…just wanted you inside," Buffy rode Spike's cock as he held her hips, thrusting from where he lay against the leather seat.

"Doesn't matter what we're doing, kitten—anytime you want, you just climb on up here. It's all yours, sweetheart."

Buffy's hips rolled in waves, her skin glowing in the sunshine. Spike could only respond in kind to the fire he'd stoked, trying to distract himself long enough to give her one more orgasm before they had to return to Sunnydale.

The sight of his cock slipping in and out of her bare pussy made him want to pound away as he held her hips, but Spike tried to control that primal urge, instead collecting the juices that gathered at their juncture, splitting the furrow of her nether lips to coax her clit into giving up one more orgasm.

As he did so, Buffy took both her nipples in hand, squeezing and rolling them, reminding them both of the first time Spike had done that very same thing in his exam room all those weeks ago. Of course he had fondled and pinched, suckled, rolled and lightly bit them every day since, but the first time he really touched her would always remain a special memory.

This recollection seemed to make Buffy even wetter, if that were possible, recalling how he had spread those first-collected juices all around, finally agreeing to make her come.

An unexpected twist to her clit had Buffy crying out once again, unashamedly riding her step-father's cock with abandon in the otherwise quiet countryside, her constricting walls forcing Spike to empty himself in a shout, satisfaction found as he pumped his heated spendings into her welcoming depths.

Buffy smiled as she collapsed on Spike's chest, trying to reign in her rapid breathing. She was certainly feeling the benefits of skipping French class in lieu of extra time with Spike. She pitied the poor fools who had to stay behind in the cafeteria.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, kitten?"

"I think we should have Italian for lunch _every_ day…."


	7. Chapter 7

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Buffy, happy birthday to you," Spike wailed in a bluesy rendition, kicking open the bedroom door, his hands full of a pancake-laden breakfast tray.

The eighteen-year-old groaned at the cheerful wake-up call.

"Daddy, you do remember that Buffy and birthdays are unmixy things, right?"

"Bollocks, my girl only turns eighteen once, and it is a _very_ important day."

Spike was trying to suppress the fear that something would go awry today—Buffy did have just cause to avoid elaborate birthday celebrations. There was her fifth birthday, when Hank was supposed to show up to take her ice skating, but somehow wound up in Spain instead, his secretary conveniently forgetting to call Joyce and inform her of the change in plans. Buffy waited forlornly on the porch all afternoon, refusing all attempts at alternate planning until Spike, then only an intern, scooped her up, tossed her in the DeSoto, and begged the rink attendant for an extra hour, offering up what little cash he had at the time as a bribe. After snuffling her sobs, Buffy squealed in delight as her new stepfather lifted and twirled her, his childhood in England having well-prepared him for Buffy's predilection for ice skating.

Then there was the party that seemed to last forever, the moderate earthquake that occurred during cake and punch having buckled the asphalt on Revello Drive. It wouldn't have been so terrible had not the eight-year-old Xander snuck an extra helping of sweets which was then promptly expelled all over the living room floor.

Buffy's tenth birthday party had to be cancelled all together—her mother requiring a trip to the emergency room when that morning's headache became too severe to tolerate.

After that year, Buffy preferred a quiet evening at home with her step-father, ordering pizza and watching a favorite movie. Gifts were often waiting on Buffy's bed, to preserve a hint of surprise but avoiding the tainted memory of the tragedies that followed torn wrapping paper.

Spike hoped that this year would begin a new tradition, however.

"I always make pancakes for your birthday breakfast, kitten, so come on, sit up for me," Spike kissed her grumbling mouth. The covers slipped away as Buffy sat up in their bed, her pert breasts not having suffered from the early hour.

"And good morning to you and you," Spike kissed each of the pebbled tips, eliciting a smile from Buffy.

"Good morning, Daddy," she grinned, fully awake to offer Spike a proper kiss.

"There she is," her step-father beamed, "Pancakes for the birthday girl." He retrieved the tray from the dresser where he had stowed it, placing it neatly over Buffy's lap.

"Care to explain why we are having breakfast at five a.m. when neither of us have school or work?"

"You'll figure it out soon enough," Spike teased, encouraging Buffy to down another mouthful of mapley goodness. Despite her protestations, Buffy made a respectable dent in the celebratory breakfast.

"Fine…one for you," Buffy smiled as she cut away a piece of pancake and fed it to Spike, wondering at the nervous anticipation dancing in his blue eyes.

"Don't forget your milk, kitten," Spike prodded, his patience for the big surprise having run out.

Buffy picked up her milk glass from the tray, and as she took a long gulp, she noticed the deep red velvet box hidden behind, her face suddenly awash in shock.

"What's this?"

"Open it…," Spike looked up in hopeful expectation.

As she opened the hinged lid, nestled inside was her mother's ring…but not _quite_ her mother's ring. The simple solitaire had been restyled and surrounded with a crest of diamonds guarding the top and bottom of the larger stone, paying homage to what had been, but also crafting something new and unique, celebrating what lay ahead as well.

Spike sat the tray aside and nervously knelt on the mattress, looking a bit more like 'William' than 'Spike' in his trepidation. Screwing up the nerve which he only rarely had to call upon, he finally spoke, "Your mother wanted you to have her ring when you turned eighteen," Spike looked down for a moment as he rubbed at the nape of his neck, "and I know this isn't exactly how she'd intended it…."

"Spike…."

"No, pet, it's alright…made peace with all that awhile back, yeah?"

Buffy nodded as smiled softly.

"And I know you're still very young, and you've got big plans," Spike tried to assure.

Buffy grasped Spike's hand, her eyes shining with a maturity beyond her years, "All my plans include you."

Spike smiled in relief. "I feel the same way, Buffy." He uncharacteristically fumbled for the right words, "I know that in a few months, when we move, things will be different…when we're in public."

"What, you don't think your new colleagues will buy the 'spinster daughter staying home to take care of dear old dad' story?" Buffy chuckled, trying to dispel his worries.

"Certainly nor with a daughter as beautiful, smart, and charming as you, I'm afraid," Spike smiled.

A small cloud formed in Buffy's thoughts, "But when we're at home…?"

"I'll be anyone you need me to be, Buffy," Spike finished, his vulnerability and seriousness evident in his expression.

"The same goes for me," Buffy replied with a quiet knowing.

"So…" Spike looked nervously at the ring, then back to meet Buffy's amused expression.

"So…," Buffy mimicked with a grin.

Spike then realized that he'd been so nervous, he hadn't actually gotten around to the question at hand.

"Buffy, will you marry me?" he asked without any additional preamble. "I know it's too bloody soon, and you are still so soddin' young, and we can wait as long as you want..." Buffy smiled with shining eyes as he rambled.

"But, baby, you're all I will ever want in the world," Spike's blue eyes shone with feeling. "Anything you want, anything you need, I'll make it happen. We can wait until you graduate college if you want, we can get married today if you want. As long as I have you…."

"Yes!" Buffy cut him off before his rambling could go any further. "Today—let's get married today, please."

Spike rose from his knees to capture the smiling lips before him. "Really, you mean it?" he inquired excitedly, trapping her beneath the covers as his body covered her own. He plucked the ring from its box and slid it onto her finger giving her a searing kiss.

"Yes, I mean it," she smiled as she broke for air, hoping that Spike would move the bedclothes aside and join her.

However, time was of the essence.

"Hang on, kitten, there's one more present under your plate," Spike shifted to his side, so Buffy could roll toward the nightstand, fishing out the tickets underneath.

"Belize? We're going to Belize?" she announced incredulously, the amazement evident on her face.

"We are—in three hours as a matter-of-fact, so hop up birthday girl."

"Are you kidding? What about packing?" Buffy's brow furrowed as she jumped up, unnerved at the frantic search awaiting her.

Spike wrapped his arms around her suddenly exposed form.

"Packed you a couple of sundresses, flip flops, shorts and a tee…bikini in case we go anywhere public. But we have a private bungalow, right on the water…not much need for clothes, I'd say. Hmm," Spike mused, "Wonder if I'll freckle?"

Buffy grinned at her step-father's attention to detail.

"So how do you know that our plans won't suffer from the Buffy Summers' birthday curse?" she asked with a quirked brow.

"Well, while Buffy Summers might be cursed with bad birthdays…Buffy _Giles_, on the other hand, is completely curse-free, and will be celebrating all bloody night if she sees fit.

Buffy grinned at Spike's attempt to flip fate the finger, dragging him toward the shower.

"Now this doesn't mean that you get to rely on the cheesy cop-out of combining my birthday and anniversary prezzies, you know," she warned playfully.

Her admonishment was met with a loud 'pop' to her backside.

"That's one birthday spanking down, seventeen more to go…."


	8. Chapter 8

"Mmm…Daddy…,"a sleepy Buffy muttered against Spike's neck, their laps covered by the airline's blanket which concealed the hand snaking up her skirt.

"Wakey, wakey, kitten," Spike cooed softly, his fingers trailing up Buffy's soft thigh, unable to wait for the warm, wet haven between her legs. "Ooh, that's my good girl," Spike drawled with a seductive smile, stroking the bare nether-lips under the white sundress. He was pleased to find a complete lack of impediments as his fingers delved between slick folds. If Spike had his way about it, Buffy could forget her panties for the entire week.

Buffy chuckled mischievously as she curled even closer into Spike's side, allowing his stroking fingers the chance to dip into her heated channel. Buffy nipped her step-father's earlobe as she surreptitiously rolled her hips and tried to force his fingers deeper into her channel. Spike just chuckled as he kept his thrusts a little too shallow for Buffy's satisfaction.

"Does my kitten need a little cream?" Spike coaxed, letting his finger slip a little further in as the fingers of his other hand grazed against Buffy's left nipple, a satisfied smile crossing his face as it hardened under his touch. "Soooo hungry, Daddy."

The middle-aged couple across the aisle prematurely donning their tropical prints looked away hastily, the wife fanning herself with the emergency instruction card when Buffy caught her eye and grinned.

A little too loudly Buffy instructed, unbuckling her belt and standing, the beige blanket falling away to the floor. "Honey, can you come help? I think my bra strap just broke," although it was obvious to anyone that Buffy had left her bra at home along with her underpants.

"Of course, sweetheart," Spike rose, his response equally staged and obvious.

Spike hustled Buffy into the lavatory; the sound of Spike's dropping zipper was music to her ears. Buffy clutched the vanity, her eyes closing but only briefly as Spike thrust deeply into her from behind. "Oh, yes!" Buffy cried out as she was filled so suddenly. Her eyes flew open and met her fiancé's in the mirror.

"It's the right one, sweetheart," Buffy called loudly to cover her tracks.

"Gotta' untangle the straps, pet," Spike waggled his eyebrows as he met Buffy's mirrored gaze before whispering, "Don't think we're the first on this plane to join the mile high club." Spike continued pumping into her tight sheathe even as he joked.

"I know, but I'd feel much better if everyone in first class wasn't staring when we went back out there," Buffy panted as Spike reached round to slip through swollen lips to toy with her eager clit.

"Can't get the strap through this tiny hook," Spike chimed in support of Buffy's concern. Spike feverishly yanked down one strap before gathering the hem of her dress to expose the bare mound whose furrow his fingers were currently exploring. His right hand tugged at the newly exposed nipple.

"God, but you're beautiful, kitten," Spike declared as he watched, transfixed at the sight of his fingers tugging at Buffy's taut nipple and buried between puffy lips as his cock drove into Buffy from behind.

"Thank you, Daddy," Buffy whispered, giving a playful bite to his ear. "It's still twisted, honey," Buffy shouted, once again trying to quell any first-class suspicions.

Spike gave a firm twist to her bare nipple in response. "How's that, sweetheart?"

Buffy gasped at the shock of pleasure at the slight pain. "Very good," she whispered, Spike's hips bucking hard against her backside.

"Darling, the other strap needs a little twist as well," Spike called out, his mischievous smile shining back in the mirror. With that, he gave her clit a firm twist, sending Buffy into spasms of release. Spike had to remove the hand toying with her breast in order to muffle her pleasurable groans.

"Almost there…," Spike called out, his true meaning rather thinly veiled. Finally, Buffy's pulsing sheathe became too much, and Spike flooded her channel with milky ropes of come.

"Mmm…love you, baby…"

"Love you too, Daddy," Buffy grinned as she gave him a long, deep kiss before proceeding to clean each other up before joining the rest of first-class.

As Buffy opened the tiny door, she was met on the opposite side with the flight attendant, preparing to knock.

"Oops, sorry, I had a little wardrobe malfunction I needed my fiancé to help with," Buffy fibbed, her face a deep rosy hue.

"Yes, well, we tend to see a lot of those," the redhead replied with a droll smile. "We'll be landing in about forty-five minutes. Can I bring you two some more champagne?"

"Certainly," Spike replied, "We have a lot to celebrate."


	9. Chapter 9

"You must have been very sure that I would say 'yes,'" Buffy grinned.

"If you had wanted to wait, I would have just postponed the license and the minister, but we would still have come to Belize, enjoyed this wonderful vacation…but considering how long I've known you, Mrs. _Buffy Anne Giles_," Spike punctuated with a kiss, "I've never known you to be a very patient bird…and besides," Spike playfully puffed up his chest, "you can't resist my hot, tight little body."

"Darn your sinister attraction," Buffy smiled and rolled her eyes as Spike spun her on the sandy beach.

"So do you want to head to the bungalow? Unpack? Relax?" Spike queried as they neared their well-appointed tropical accommodations.

A mischievous grin spread across Buffy's face, "This is our own private stretch of beach, right?" She looked each way down the long stretch of sand—other people appeared as ants.

"That it is, luv."

"Well, I think I'm ready for a swim," Buffy deftly stripped off the white sundress, sporting nothing at all underneath.

"You coming?" she looked over her shoulder, biting her lip with a naughty leer before splashing into the surf. When the salty waves just lapped at her bare nether lips she paused, curling her forefinger to lure her new husband into the blue depths.

"I certainly hope so," Spike answered, rapidly shucking off the linen khakis and loose white shirt. He quickly caught up with his not-so-blushing bride, catching her by the waist and spinning her in the deep azure water. Wrapping her legs around her husband's hips, Buffy slid down on Spike's already engorged cock.

"Well, hello there, Mrs. Giles."

Buffy smiled mischievously as they bobbed in the lapping waves, "Enjoying your honeymoon so far, Mr. Giles?"

"That's Dr. Giles, don't forget," Spike quipped in feigned haughtiness.

"Ooh, that's right," Buffy cooed playfully, "Gee, doctor…I've got this _awful _itch," she complained, wide-eyed and breathy.

"Well, I think I'm the man to clear that right up," Spike assured boastfully, thrusting up hard as he held his wife's hips.

"Mmm…yes you are," Buffy agreed, capturing Spike's mouth with a possessive kiss.

Buffy's hips rolled with the froth of the white sea foam that tumbled to the shore. Every circuit was matched by her husband's upward thrust as they moved languidly in the water. She suckled at the pulse in his neck, causing Spike's rhythm to best that of the breaking sea.

"Salty," she giggled. Spike caught a buoyed nipple in his mouth, giving it a firm pull.

"You, too, pet." Buffy clung to Spike once more, her body joining to his over and again in an unhurried dance

"It's so beautiful here…thank you for all this," Buffy sighed as the rolling water glinted in the descending sun.

"Anything for you, kitten," Spike assured, his mind drifting through memories of Buffy wrapped around him like this—for years, in total innocence, her sleepy face tucked against his neck at the end of a long day…as she grew, the petite teenager would cling to him for the sake of intimacy…for the lure of temptation..., though the sputtering young doctor could never bear to dissuade his golden goddess even as her squirming bottom nearly drove him to madness.

His blue eyes, their color magnified in the expanse of water, studied this latest incarnation of Buffy—fully grown, her tight sheathe surrounding his cock as he buried himself again and again inside her. Was it wrong for him to bed and wed the same girl he'd carried home from the beach so many years ago, brown as a berry and covered in sand?

'Hell, no,' he decided, her pussy clenching against his prick. They had been each other's entire world for so long, it seemed natural that their relationship would evolve into this. His musings were broken by Buffy's giggling laughter.

"Ooh! They tickle!" Buffy laughed as the sunset painted the tiny aquatic creatures in reds and golds as they flicked hither and thither, trying to nibble on her pert, pink nipples. "Like burning baby fishes," she noted as they glittered against her bobbing breasts.

"Oi! Get away," Spike teased as he splashed them lightly, "Mine! Got the deed and everything."

"Yes, yours…," Buffy grinned at his antics, rocking purposefully into Spike's hips, grinding her clit to his pelvic bone with each thrust.

"Blimey! Now they're going after my balls," Spike grimaced nervously.

"M-," Buffy started with a grin.

"Don't even say it," Spike cut her off playfully, halting her identical admonishment to the pesky minnows.

Feeling her walls begin to flutter and her orgasm to break, Buffy clenched tightly against Spike's sheathed cock, forcing his own little swimmers from the bollocks in question.

As Spike groaned in climax, Buffy, recovering, couldn't help but tease, "It's ok, sweetie, no need to say what we've all known for years…."


	10. Chapter 10

"Oh, _Mrs. Giles_…," Spike sang out, letting the screen door slap closed against the jamb.

"Out here," Buffy replied from the ocean-front porch, just finishing lighting the little votives that were scattered around the porch. She had turned off all the electric lights in the bungalow, so the entire place danced in candlelight.

"Did you get it?" Buffy questioned excitedly as she re-entered the main room, her gauzy white nightie fluttering with her quick steps.

"Well…I had to sweet-talk the clerk," Spike explained, earning a playful scowl from his new wife. "And, I graciously made healthy donations to the Mayan Historical Society and the Coral Reef Preservation Fund, and…," Spike whipped the stamped and certified documents from behind his back, "they generously fast-tracked the registration for our license.

A delighted squeal came from Buffy's throat as she snatched the paper to double-check before rising on her tip-toes and giving her husband a wet kiss for his efforts.

"So we can go to the DMV as soon as we land?"

"Of course, kitten," Spike smiled. "But are you sure you don't want to wait and change it when we move? You don't think it will seem too suspicious?"

"Not at all. I'm just going to say that since I turned eighteen, I was free to finally change my name, so I did."

"And _that_?" Spike nodded to her hand.

"My mother's ring was a birthday gift. It just so happened that it fit on my left hand," Buffy waggled the diamonds in the candlelight and smiled.

"So…not _exactly_ the truth, but not totally a lie, either," Spike surmised, taking a drink of the champagne Buffy had poured. "Such a little schemer," he teased, planting a peck on his petite wife's lips.

"Well, considering I came up with it at five in the morning, I don't think it's too bad," Buffy defended with a grin as she put the official paperwork in their suitcase before taking her glass of bubbly in hand as well.

"S' brilliant, pet," Spike took Buffy's hand to lead her out the back porch where she'd been lighting candles earlier.

He swung his legs up the length of the porch hammock, gingerly drawing Buffy onto his lap and placing their empty glasses on the plank floor below.

"So this is what you bought at that little shop this afternoon?" Spike questioned with a smile, toying with the thin ribbons, tying together the deeply scooped, loose neckline.

"Mm-hmm," Buffy hummed, already rocking a little on Spike's lap.

Spike nudged at the hem, delighted to find nothing but tanned skin beneath.

"Didn't buy the matching panties, kitten?" he smirked as his thumb coaxed her bare furrow.

"Seemed wasteful at the time," Buffy teased, popping the buttons loose on Spike's linen trousers before sliding them down his hips.

"That's my girl," Spike smiled as his young wife rocked back and forth against his released cock, her slick folds coating his hard length. In a swift movement, Buffy rose to sheathe herself on his ready member.

"Oh, kitten…," Spike groaned, the back of his head grinding into the netting.

"Daddy…," Buffy moaned in response, which seemed to make Spike even harder, if that was possible, holding her rolling hips as he thrust up into her heat.

"Let me see you, pet," Spike's mouth watered at the pert nipples barely covered by the sheer, white gauze.

Buffy tugged at the second ribbon tie, the weightless fabric pooling at her elbows, baring the requested flesh, even as her hips continued to roll.

"Give Daddy a taste, pet," Spike drawled with a playful leer, drawing her gently down.

Buffy grinned, offering Spike a taut nipple while she raked her fingers through his blonde locks, holding him to her breast.

Spike's thumb stroked between her nether lips, tending to the swollen pearl inside while he suckled at the proffered peak.

"Mmm…very hungry, pet," Spike devoured the untended nipple, his hands clutching at her bottom, grinding her body into his.

"I like it when you're hungry," Buffy cooed, having spent the last several years fantasizing about Spike's mouth tending to her aching breasts.

"Always hungry for you, kitten," Spike's words were muffled by tanned flesh.

"That's _Mrs._ Kitten, to you," Buffy teased as she writhed.

"Well, give Daddy some sugar, Mrs. Kitten," Spike grinned, claiming Buffy's mouth as he gripped her hips, pressing down so her clit dragged across his pubic bone with every stroke.

Buffy's groans grew louder with every thrust until her channel began to pulse and clench around Spike, until Spike's groans matched his wife's, spilling his hot seed deep inside her.

"Love you, baby, love you, so much," Spike declared, his thrusts slowing as he and Buffy rocked gently into each other.

"I love you, too," she smiled, nipping at Spike's shoulder.

"Good thing we're married then," Spike replied, nestling Buffy's head on his chest.

"Yes, it is," Buffy fingered the platinum band she bought that morning.

"So…was your wedding what you always dreamed it would be?" Spike asked, hoping that his plans hadn't been found lacking.

Buffy's gaze met Spike's as a secret smile spread across her face, "Our wedding was _exactly_ what I hoped it would be."

Spike couldn't help but chuckle a little. "What about the honeymoon, pet?"

"Belize? I love it here…wish we never had to leave. The ocean…the stars…gentle breezes…it's paradise."

"Well, maybe in a few years…once you're out of school…build up a bit of a nest egg…we can come back and buy a place like this…open an office here…."

"Have a couple of blonde rug rats running around the beach?"

A broad smile spread across Spike's face.

"I think maybe we should start practicing right away," Spike concurred, growing hard once again between Buffy's thighs.

Pulling her husband on top of her, Buffy could not help but agree, "You know…I think you may be right…"

Xxx

_June_

"_Buffy Anne Giles…," _Snyder choked a little on her last name, Dr. Giles and his step-daughter always seemed to make him a little nervous. Spike's boisterous cheering made up for the lack of other family attending the graduation, making the senior blush as she waved her diploma and smiled for the camera.

xxx

Buffy and Spike had kept their secret from the residents of Sunnydale for the last four months, not wanting any damning rumors to follow them to Northern California and interfere with Spike's new practice. The moving van would arrive in a couple of days, and Spike would be seeing patients in San Francisco inside of two weeks. Spike was in their bedroom, packing up his suitcase while Buffy went to check the closet in her old bedroom for cardigans and light jackets.

Buffy's fingers lightly dragged against the cardboard boxes already taped for transport. She sat on the bed for a moment, remembering how her mother would read her stories and tuck her in when she was very small. While she cherished those recollections, it was Spike who had so clearly defined her childhood, at first with his youthful exuberance and then later, as he tried to stand in for her ailing mother.

Finally, it was just the two of them, taking care of each other through the years, becoming each other's entire worlds. And then…. Well, there certainly had been plenty of "and then…" in the last few months, Buffy smiled. Buffy fished a couple of sweaters from her old dresser and a jacket from the closet.

"Kitten…you about ready?" Spike called from the master bedroom, the sound of his suitcase landing with a thud against the floor.

"Yes, Daddy," Buffy called with a grin, plucking Mr. Gordo from the abandoned bed as she said her silent goodbye to 1630 Revello Drive….


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue

_Buffy's 28__th__ birthday; Buffy and Spike's 10 year anniversary_

"No pants! No pants!" cried a curly-headed three-year-old who ran starkers out the back screen door onto the sand.

"Nooo panz…nooo panz," his little brother echoed as he ripped off his diaper and followed suit.

"Jamie… Charlie… You need to get dressed boys," Buffy sighed as she followed the boisterous pair outside.

"No pants… no pants… no pants…," they chanted, dodging their mother as she stood on the beach with a cocked eyebrow, holding the disregarded shorts and diaper in her hand.

Of course, it was only natural that Buffy and Spike's sons would be as averse to confinement as their parents, although the couple was now much more discrete about their more intimate activities. Shagging on the beach or in the kitchen, or hell, even getting felt up under the tablecloth at a restaurant was a rare event with a pair of toddlers running around. Of course, Buffy and Spike wouldn't trade them for the world, but Buffy did have plans for the night, which included their rambunctious offspring spending the night at the sitter's.

If she could manage to get them dressed again, that is.

"Where's the birthday girl?" Spike called from inside the house.

"Out here, Daddy," Buffy called from the sand.

Spike smiled at the difference in the moniker when including their young sons in the conversation.

He grinned, the pair kicking up sand as they made laps on the shore.

"Oh, you are a wily one," he scooped up their younger son, letting Buffy refasten his diaper before she took the squirming toddler from him.

"Nooo! No panz!" Charlie wailed.

"Yes pants," his mother corrected, "It's almost time to go play with your friends," she soothed. Charlie finally relented and laid his blonde head on Buffy's shoulder.

"And the other one," Spike nabbed Jamie in a football-carry, toting him back inside to get dressed, his bare bum still sandy from the beach.

Buffy latched the screen door after her family came in.

"Don't want pants, Daddy," Jamie pouted, inheriting his mother's bottom lip.

"You want to go play with Benny and Pablo like we talked about, right?" Spiked coaxed, reaching out for the discarded garment from his wife with one hand, while brushing the errant sand onto the tile with the other.

"Yeah…," Jaime conceded with his lip still pushed out, curling his nose in distaste as he stepped into his Batman underwear.

"Then you have to put on pants, little man. OK?"

"OK, Daddy," he huffed, running off for his shoes after his dad helped with the button and zip.

"You didn't need any help today?" Buffy inquired, sending their younger son off to follow his older brother.

"It was Mrs. Garcia's fifth. I was only there for the catch and clean-up," Spike grinned. "Besides you shouldn't have to work on you birthiversary…or is it anniversday…. I'm not sure which."

"Cute," Buffy replied drolly, but then she noticed the artfully wrapped presents on the kitchen table.

"Ooh, prezzies!" Buffy squealed. Spike chuckled at the fact that some things never changed, except, of course, for the fact that Buffy had finally conquered her fear of birthdays.

"Can I go ahead and open them?" Buffy batted her lashes, still using her coquettish charms after all these years.

"Of course, kitten."

Buffy ripped into the boxes, revealing a jade green silk sundress with a flirty, ruffled thigh-length hem and matching sandals.

"Ooh, so cute!" Buffy gushed as she held the dress up to herself.

"Happy birthday, baby."

"Thank you!" Buffy grinned, giving her husband a gracious kiss.

"Now for your anniversary present, Mrs. Giles…"

Buffy opened the other box that contained a sea glass necklace, bracelet and earrings that would go beautifully with her birthday dress.

"How did you know I had been looking at these?" Buffy grinned, wrapping her arms around Spike's neck.

"Keen powers of observation," Spike smirked, letting Buffy claim his mouth in a certain show of gratitude. Breaking the kiss, Spike smiled of his wife of ten years, "Why don't you get changed, we'll drop off the boys and make it to our dinner reservations."

"Won't take me a minute," Buffy predicted even as her husband cocked a brow in incredulity. Spike washed up and changed before making sure their sons were still dressed for the sitter's.

When he entered the sky-blue room, he found Charlie once again trying to rip off his diaper.

"Oh, no you don't," Spike quickly secured the fastenings once more, slipping a clean shirt and shorts on the squirming toddler.

"No, Dadddee, no panz!"

"Yes, pants, because Daddy is taking Mommy out to a nice dinner, and you are going to play with your friends tonight," he tried to explain, all the while knowing that this was a case of the universe biting him in the ass. Charlie took off through the house like a shot once he was re-dressed and released.

Though Jaime couldn't make the snug button fit back through the button-hole, he was putting his all into trying to wriggle out of the khaki shorts that had been foisted onto him.

"Son, please stay dressed," Spike tugged the waistline up to its rightful spot, even though the pre-schooler pouted as hard as his mother ever had.

"Hate pants," he huffed.

"Jaime, please…it's Mommy's birthday and anniversary, so I really want to take her out to a nice romantic dinner, and you two are staying at Benny and Pablo's tonight, remember?"

"Why din't you get Mommy a pony for her birfday?"

"Because I got Mommy what _she_ wanted, not what _you_ wanted, little man."

"What'd Mommy get _you_ Daddy?" Jaime enquired, his blue eyes wide in his innocence.

"Well, I certainly know what I _hope_ I'm getting," Spike grinned without elaboration.

"Are my boys still dressed?" Buffy called as she fastened an earring, stepping to the bedroom doorway, a tropical vision in swirling greens and blues.

"Sadly, yes," her husband teased, referring to himself, alone, after sending his oldest son to go find his baby brother. Spike moved to the doorway, wrapping his arms around Buffy's soft, silk-covered body.

"So, kitten, where's _my_ prezzie?" he growled seductively, nipping at his wife's golden neck.

Buffy didn't bother to mention the vintage guitar she knew he'd been eyeing, tied with a big bow in the corner of their bedroom. No, she knew her husband was asking about an entirely _different _kind of present.

"Gee, Daddy, I know it's around here _somewhere…,_" she grinned in mocking innocence, smug as she watched Spike's eyes darken in anticipation.

Spike grinned, playing along as he nibbled under his wife's ear. "Is it _here?"_

"No," she chirped sweetly, waiting for her husband to discover his surprise.

"What about here?" His thumbs rose to toy with her nipples, pleased to find them otherwise bare under the delicate silk.

Buffy had to stifle a moan, enjoying the silk as it teased her puckering flesh, but she still grinned and shook her head. "Nope."

"No?" Spike replied, incredulously as his hands skimmed down Buffy's body, finding the short, ruffled hem, his hands snaking underneath as his trousers grew obviously tight.

The realities of parenthood made it a bit more difficult to indulge in some of the wilder pursuits that typified the earlier days of their marriage. On their tenth anniversary, Buffy wanted to remind her husband that while she may now be a mommy, it was _Daddy _she was with tonight.

Spike grinned as his fingers met bare, warm flesh, freshly-waxed and perfectly smooth. He chuckled, stating the obvious, "No pants, kitten?"

His wife grinned smugly, knowing how much her husband would enjoy her bare pussy, wet and ready for his attentions all night long. His finger rubbed the cleft of the exposed furrow, teasing the tight pearl underneath the swirls of shimmering silk.

Buffy's smile of sweet, seductive promise was the same one she wore when Spike married her, a decade before. Feigning a playful innocence, Buffy pulled her husband even closer, his finger sliding into her ready, heated channel that promised a night of well-earned satisfaction.

Whispering into his ear, Buffy could only repeat the words she'd heard all afternoon, "No, Daddy…no pants…."


End file.
